


Song in a Thousand Pieces

by thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, References to Abuse, Reylo Fanfiction Anthology, The Nightingale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-18 18:10:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8170994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriarLily/pseuds/thewayofthetrashcompactor
Summary: Snoke holds up a hand. “A nightingale.”
The man bows. “Yes, my lord.”
“In the Jakku forests.” Snoke’s voice is emotionless.
The man pauses before answering, unsure of himself. “Yes, my lord,” he finally says.
Snoke settles back into his throne. “Kylo Ren," he orders, and Kylo swiftly steps forward. "Bring it to me.”





	1. What thou among the leaves hast never known

**Author's Note:**

> ...wow. This has been an incredible project, and I can hardly believe it's all coming together. Thank you so much to my fellow mods, who have been incredible, and to all the amazing authors who have been a part of this anthology. You all are awesome.
> 
> Update: The full anthology has been released! You can check out all of the wonderful written works at the [collection](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Reylo_Fanfiction_Anthology) (there's a [masterpost and an excellent ebook](https://reylofanfictionanthology.tumblr.com/post/151841246182/reylo-fanfiction-anthology-fics-masterpost-and) too!). There's also a [gorgeous zine](http://reyloanthology.tumblr.com/post/152653509080), with art and excerpts from the stories.
> 
> [Omnomnomlette](http://omnomnomlette.tumblr.com/) and [firetigeraries](http://firetigeraries.tumblr.com/) did the art for my fic for the zine, and it is awesome and beautiful:  
> [Omnom's art](http://omnomnomlette.tumblr.com/post/152677872131)  
> [Firetigeraries' cover page](http://firetigeraries.tumblr.com/post/153500249909)  
> [Firetigeraries' art and sketches](http://firetigeraries.tumblr.com/post/153879863469)

Silence reigns in the throne room as Snoke presides over his subjects. Kylo stands to the left of the ancient emperor’s throne in his place as his Knight, while Hux is to the right, as his chancellor. The day’s ceremony is ostensibly to allow the empire’s citizens to bring their concerns to their ruler, to ensure that he is kept in touch with the needs of his people. In truth, it is an opportunity for the nobility to fawn over their leader. Each of them is expected to make an appearance, lest they face Snoke’s disapproval. No commoner would ever make it so far as the throne room; expensive gifts are required to gain an audience with the emperor at all times. 

The woman currently groveling before the throne has brought an offering of a fine horse from her stables. Kylo can see Snoke’s mild dissatisfaction with the gift; one animal is hardly sufficient, but it may yet be forgiven if the woman’s adulation is satisfactorily obsequious. 

Eventually, the woman’s praises peter off, concluding with a particularly impressive comparison of the emperor’s love for his subjects to the the power of the great river across the plains. Snoke waits for a moment after she has finished speaking, allowing time for her to reflect on what inadequacies he could find with her and what he could do to punish them. The only sound is her breathing, heavy with fear though she tries to keep it shallow, badly concealing her discomfort from the room around her. 

Once she has had enough time to begin to accept her fate, Snoke waves his bone white and withered hand dismissively, letting her know she can return to her place at the side of the room. She is safe for the time being. Her breath rushes out of her in an uncontrolled burst and she walks away stiffly, a slight tremble visible in her shoulders. Kylo feels little sympathy for her. She is newer to the ranks of the nobility, elevated after her predecessor displeased Snoke to the point of dispatching him to solve the problem, but she knows what is expected of her at court and her performance today has only barely met standards.

The next lord strides forward confidently with a servant in his wake, hunched over and not daring to meet the eyes of anyone in the room. The lord gestures impatiently at his servant, who fumbles as he brings forth a list of offerings, starting with a selection of wines for the imperial table.

Snoke acknowledges his gift with a solemn nod, a testament to his approval, and puffed with his success, the man launches forth into lauding the emperor. Kylo tunes out much of what he says; it’s hardly anything that hasn’t been said before, though the nobility finds ever more creative ways of expressing it. Snoke rarely seems to take much notice of the details of the exultations either, only requiring them as continuing proof of his subjects’ devotion and a reminder of their place below him. As with the woman before, Snoke watches impassively as the man performs before him, until something about the man’s speech makes him take notice. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Kylo sees Snoke lean forward, startling him out of his impassive stare across the hall. He hadn’t heard anything particularly treasonous in the man’s insipid recitation of the empire’s beauties, but Snoke is suddenly very interested in the man, whose arrogant facade falters under the Emperor’s full attention. 

“Repeat,” Snoke says, voice filling the room.

“I - what?” the man stammers.

“What you just said. Repeat it,” Snoke orders, with a touch of impatience, just enough that the man starts sweating. 

“Yes, um, of course - th-the greatestness of your empire, uh, every beauty a testament to the overwhelming glory of he who rules it-” The man’s repetition doesn’t have the same finesse as his original dramatic presentation.

“Continue,” Snoke intones, his impatience increasing. The man wrings his hands.

“There was - from the rich and rolling hills of Naboo, which, um, lead into the mountains of Hoth that reach the heavens and yet still cannot touch the heights of your majesty-” He was beginning to regain his rhythm. “-T-to the mighty forests of Jakku, filled with the wondrous song of the nightingale, music so pure that it could only be inspired by our glorious emperor himself, so mellifluous we mere mortals can barely stand its beauty, it-”

Snoke holds a hand up and the man stops instantly. “A nightingale,” he says.

The man bows. “Yes, my lord.”

“In the Jakku forests.” Snoke’s voice is emotionless.

The man pauses before answering, unsure of himself and of the direction of the emperor’s comments. “Yes, my lord,” he finally says.

Snoke stares at him a moment more and Kylo idly wonders if the man will collapse to the floor, given how much he is struggling to breath. He wouldn’t be the first. His face has gone from white to flushed red and sweating. 

“Why have you told me of this?” Snoke says, asking, for the first time in Kylo’s memory, a question to which he may not know the answer.

The man gapes, and Kylo understands his confusion. There is nothing Snoke does not know about his kingdom, and to even insinuate otherwise would be treason. It’s one of the elements that makes these performances in the throne room particularly redundant. Anything the nobles could have to tell their emperor, he already knows. Any attempt at subterfuge is laughable; an indication of any gap in the emperor’s knowledge is unprecedented. Kylo looks around the room, noticing that he is far from the only person to have noticed this slip. He wonders how many people will have to be shoved back into line, their doubts about the emperor’s omnipotence permanently resolved. 

“T-the nightingale, my lord, it is a thing of wonder, of-”

“Yes. So you’ve said,” Snoke interrupts.

The man flushes even darker. “Indeed, my lord. But though your kingdom is filled with marvels that could not even be dreamt of by the savages beyond our borders, this bird is…” he trails off, lost for words for the first time. His eyes widen as he watches Snoke, still floundering for descriptors he hasn’t already used. “The music, it - The sound! It - It’s indescribable,” he concludes, clearly lost without his prepared script. Snoke remains silent, watching him, and he struggles to go on. “In all the years I have been blessed to live in your radiant realm, I have never experienced something so profound.” 

Snoke is silent for a moment more, then settles back into his throne. “Bring this bird to me,” he says. 

“My lord?” the man inquires, and Kylo nearly rolls his eyes at his stupidity.

“Bring. The nightingale. To me,” Snoke says, with increasing menace. 

“O-of course! My lord! Of course,” the man says, falling over himself to give his deepest bow yet. He continues stammering on about the greatness of the emperor’s munificence and his dedication or some such nonsense, but is ignored. Snoke turns to Kylo instead.

“Kylo Ren. You will accompany Lord Plutt. Bring as many of the guard as you deem necessary.”

The man blanches, darting a panicked glance at Kylo, and he smirks. He knows exactly how much the nobles fear him. Snoke could have told Kylo to execute the man where he stood and it would have hardly been a more frightening proposition to him. Kylo gives a perfunctory bow to Snoke, bending to exactly the appropriate degree. Snoke is still watching him when he straightens. “Go now,” he commands. 

Kylo bows again, then turns to the man trembling before the throne. “Come with me,” he orders, not bothering to keep his disdain from his tone. The man nods, head bobbing ridiculously, and follows as Kylo sweeps from the room. 

-

It is barely more than an hour later when Kylo gallops through the palace gates, a small but impressive group behind him, with the exception of Lord Plutt still trailing in their wake. The palace guards are all well trained and ready to leave or fight at a moment’s notice. It had been little effort to locate Phasma, one of the few captains he considers truly competent and to instruct her to ready a team to leave immediately.

Plutt attempted to protest, saying that he had other things to attend to and couldn’t possibly be expected to leave on a journey with no warning. A glare from Kylo substantially subdued him, though he continued muttering under his breath until Kylo’s hand began lingering meaningfully on his weapon. That quieted him immediately, his face going pale again, and Kylo smirked. 

The afternoon has only just begun as the palace recedes into the distance behind them. Kylo keeps the pace a little above comfortable, since they only have half the day to ride. The guards have no difficulty in matching him, but Plutt struggles, and Kylo allows himself some satisfaction as he looks back and sees the man panting as he tries to keep up.

Kylo leads them through the city outside of the palace, leaving the crowded main roads as soon as possible for the lesser-used ones that lead to the Jakku Forests. They still come across a fair amount of people close to the palace, but those numbers get fewer and fewer as they grow farther away. Everyone on the roads scatters as they approach, huddling frozen to the sides as they pass, not daring to look directly at them. Kylo hardly notices them. He knows they make an imposing sight, with him in the front in his distinctive black armour and helm, and a selection of the most trained members of the guard arrayed behind him. Even if there were, somehow, someone left in the kingdom who didn’t recognize him and know to fear his approach, there is no way they could mistake the white armour of the Imperial Guard. 

They continue past sundown, finally stopping to camp at the side of the road once night has truly set in. Though the roads to Jakku are isolated compared to much of the kingdom, Kylo still could have found an inn of some sort for them to stay the night. But it would have meant taking unnecessary time, possibly changing their path, and there is no reason for them to take anything other than the most direct route. Plutt looks like he wants to start grumbling again while the guards set up camp around him, but something about being surrounded by some of the most powerful soldiers in the empire keeps him quiet. There is nothing but the most necessary of conversation as food is passed around and a watch is set up. Kylo sleeps apart from the rest of the group, hand on his sword and ready to wake at the slightest noise, as always. 

Kylo is up before the dawn, waking just ahead of the guards. The soldier who took the last watch stiffens as he approaches the group, already packed and his horse ready. Plutt takes some persuading to wake up. Kylo considers kicking him, but instead instructs one of the guards to get him on his horse, regardless of his state. He wakes up enough to manage to hold the reins, to Kylo’s mild disappointment, despite nearly having to tie him on. The sun has risen higher than Kylo would like by the time they leave, though it’s still just above the horizon. He slows the pace from yesterday, wanting to keep the horses in shape. They’ll do better to keep a steady pace all day than to wear out their mounts early. 

They take a brief break at midday, as well as a few shorter breaks in the morning and afternoon, but for the most part, they ride continually. Kylo has every hope of making the forest by nightfall, and those hopes are satisfied when he can see a fuzzy darkness on the horizon in the early evening. They ride on, stopping at the very edge of the forest. An uneasiness settles over the group as they make camp. Plutt shows it worst of all, frequently casting nervous glances at the forest and sticking to the edges of the camp furthest from the treeline. Kylo grinds his teeth and finally snaps the third time the man jumps at a slight rustle in the trees. 

“Haven’t you been through this forest before? We’re here on your word,” he growls, barely refraining from grabbing the man by the throat.

“Yes, of course, but- well, there are stories, you know.” Kylo continues glaring at him, giving no indication he knows any such thing. “Well, people disappear, don’t they?” He wrings his hands. “No one would ever travel through the forest on their own. Truthfully, the first time we heard the nightingale, we thought it was a ghost.” A faraway look comes into his eyes. “But then - it was so beautiful - there is nothing that can compare, in this world or the next.”

Kylo narrows his eyes. “How _did_ you know it was a nightingale?” 

Plutt’s eyes widen. “We saw it! It came swooping over us, big for one, but one of my men recognized it all the same. It settled in a tree and we tried to get closer, but it flew away faster than we could chase it.” He sighs deeply. “I’ve heard it from a distance since, but never as close as the first time.”

Kylo grunts and turns away. The rest of the group finishes setting up camp and begins passing out food. Plutt hurries over once he notices. While the guards aren’t as obvious about it as the noble, a vague tension and fear runs through them as well. He sees it in the brief glances tossed over shoulders, the unwillingness of any of them to keep their back to the trees, the hands that stray to weapons a little more often than they should. Kylo snorts. It’s unlikely whatever resides in the forest could possibly more frightening than what resides in the palace. 

The tension draws tighter as night falls completely over the camp. Only one guard should be up to keep watch, and yet Kylo can see from the shifting shapes in the dark that few, if any, of the group have managed to fall asleep. He growls under his breath. The constant movement and rustling make it impossible for him to rest. They all need to be prepared for the hunt tomorrow, and this ridiculous fear will only keep them from accomplishing the emperor’s goals. With irritation buzzing beneath his skin, he throws back his bedroll with a harsh sigh and grabs his sword. He walks to the where the rest of the group is sleeping and stalks between the bedrolls, sword in hand, swinging menacingly. 

At his approach the guards quickly fall still, almost unnaturally so. The woman on watch avoids looking at him, sitting as still as her supposedly sleeping comrades, watching the forest intently. After a few loops around the camp, the rustling has died down completely and Kylo’s desire to take his sword to the next thing that moves has faded somewhat. He closes his eyes, pleased at the quiet, and falls into a light sleep.

The group is more reluctant to get up the next morning. They still wake at dawn, but take their time in rolling their bedding and readying their horses. Plutt simply sits on the ground once he wakes, gazing at the forest with wide eyes. Kylo stands over him, glowering down. 

“We’re here. Where did you hear the nightingale?” he demands.

The man starts, as if he had somehow not noticed Kylo Ren next to him. “I- well, the first time was on the way to Goazon. So along this road,” he says, nodding at the road they took yesterday and camped next to.

“Yes. Which is why we are here,” Kylo says, sorely tempted to just dispose of the man already. He’s barely worth the effort. 

“O-of course. Well, we were two hours, maybe three into the forest? And then we ran off the path for a bit when it flew away, but we were close enough to find our way back easily enough.”

Kylo looks at the forest, considering. A few hours at the pace the man was likely going with his retinue shouldn’t take them much time, and it’s the only lead they have. He mounts his horse and leads the group into the forest with Plutt struggling to ride beside him. The early morning sun can barely be seen through the thick woods, only faintly casting shadows at their feet as they ride briskly on. 

When he thinks they’ve gone far enough, Kylo slows and glances over at Plutt, considering asking him if this was where he saw the nightingale. Judging from his clueless and vaguely terrified expression, he would be of no help. Kylo continues a short distance more at a slow walk, looking intently at the trees around them for any hint of life. Finally, he pulls to a halt, the rest of the company gradually stopping behind him. He dismounts and they follow his lead, all displaying varying degrees of uncertainty with their surroundings. The captain approaches him, waiting for orders.

“Two groups,” he says.

She nods curtly and shouts the orders to the guards. They lead their horses behind them in order to travel through the uneven ground and low-hanging branches of the forest. Three form behind the captain, awaiting her lead. The other three group behind Kylo, much more nervously. Among them is a younger, dark skinned man Kylo vaguely recognizes as someone Phasma has pointed out to him as promising. 

Plutt remains on his horse, strangling the reins in his hands. “What should I do?” he demands. 

Kylo turns to look at him slowly. His mask covers his expression, but the man can sense his displeasure all the same. “Stay here,” he says.

The man’s mouth falls open. “Stay here? Alone? I couldn’t possibly- who knows what kinds of creatures are out here?”

“Hopefully a nightingale,” Kylo deadpans.

Plutt’s face flushes further. “I-I demand that at least one guard stay with me. I must be protected.”

Kylo doesn’t bother responding, simply turning away and leaving the path, disappearing into the trees. The guards assigned to him follow, and Phasma leaves with her group to the other side of the path. 

“Wait! You can’t- you can’t leave me!” he shouts after him. Kylo continues walking, smiling as the man’s shouts fade away. Plutt has given them all he can; he no longer has to concern himself with the imbecile. 

Once the man’s shouts have faded, the sounds of the forest take over. Several birds fly overhead, twittering from the trees, none particularly notable. Leaves rustle and shift in the slight breeze, and up ahead an entire tree seems to shake, as if moved by a larger animal. It could be a deer, or if Kylo has any luck, it could be one of the fabled monsters of the forest, uncharacteristically awake in the daytime to come and take Plutt off his hands before he has to bring him back to the palace. 

Kylo strides through the forest, walking as if he knows his destination, paying no attention to the guards trotting in his wake. He doesn’t bother keeping his tread quiet or light. His purpose is to find the nightingale; startling it out of hiding is a good a solution as any. The sun rises in the sky as he continues his journey, stalking assuredly through miles of trees. The light filters through the thick foliage, keeping the ground below cool and slightly damp, though the pleasant weather does little to soothe Kylo’s rapidly mounting irritation.

Plenty of birds flit about, singing, and some of them might even be nightingales, for all Kylo knows. None of them strike Kylo as worth wasting a two day journey on. His hand tightens on his sword as he makes his way deeper into the forest, dwelling on the pointlessness of the quest. The idiotic man had likely been overwhelmed by a particularly loud pigeon and driven out of his tiny mind, and now they were stuck roaming endless reaches of the forest because some fool had gone too far in trying to justify his worthless existence to the Emperor. 

Kylo draws his sword from its sheath and begins swinging it restlessly. The gap between him and the guards behind him increases. Their discomfort puts him more on edge. Anger scratches at him, and the strokes of his sword become more purposeful.

Just when he thinks he can’t stand another moment of this pointless exercise, a sound comes floating on the breeze. He jerks his gaze upward from glaring at the trees, scanning the branches above for the source. The guards have stopped behind him, confused, except for one, who has a dazed look on his face He takes a hesitant step forward, as if to follow the sound. It started softly, winding through the woods, but grows in strength, filling the air around them until even the other idiots notice, lifting their heads to frown at the sky. Kylo stumbles forward, entranced, reins dropping from his hand.


	2. But here there is no light

Rey watches from her perch in the trees as the soldiers in white and their leader in black leave the path, abandoning the loud man. She heard them coming practically since the moment they entered the forest, but they’re travelling much more lightly than she’d been hoping despite all the noise they’ve been making. 

She considers the man left behind carefully. He has passed through the forest before, and she’s gotten several useful and interesting pieces off of him, even if he does tend to travel with more gold and jewels than she could ever use. But he also tends to carry more food than his entire retinue could eat in a month, though none of that is with him today. He is very strangely alone with barely more than a saddlebag, and though she’s still tempted to see what he has in it, if there’s anything worth getting from the group, the leader will have it. 

She turns from the loud man, who has abandoned his complaining for terrified silence, and follows the group led by the man in black armor, dropping lightly from the tree and padding silently across the forest floor. She passes around them to the side and is planning how best to get at the leader’s saddlebag when she hears her nightingale. The soldiers have heard it too, and she smiles as she watches the leader and one of the others fall under the spell immediately. The other two soon follow. She is ready to take advantage of their distraction, but the leader’s stillness breaks into action. He grabs the reins that have fallen from his grasp and quickly swings himself onto his horse, the soldiers in white following behind him. He spurs his horse into a gallop, or as close as he can get in the crowded forest, heading in the direction of the nightingale. She is frozen for a moment, unprepared for this reaction, then quickly follows. 

She runs parallel to them, just barely keeping pace. She knows the forest intuitively, but the leader is riding shockingly well through the terrain. The others fall behind, unable to maneuver as well as either her or their leader. She begins to feel panicked. No one has gotten so close to her nightingale before. She quickly readjusts her plan. She’s not sure she could beat the man to the bird, and even less sure she could outrun him once she has it. The rest of the group are only a worry if their leader is. She sprints in front of him, throwing herself up an opportune tree. He is only seconds behind her. She drops from the tree as he passes beneath, planning her attack so that she swings in from his side and knocks him from his horse. 

His breath is knocked out of him, but he struggles up quicker than he should. She lands gracefully on her feet and wastes no time pulling her staff from behind her. She holds it firmly, present but not yet threatening. He still lies on the ground, braced on one elbow, his other hand reaching for the sword at his hip. His helm has been knocked to the side by her attack and it looks like it has to be crushing his neck. 

“Leave the nightingale alone,” she says, slightly out of breath. “Please.”

The man doesn’t respond, only pushes himself up further. He seems to be watching her from behind the black visor. “Why should I?” he asks, voice muffled. 

She frowns at him, not expecting this response. “It’s not meant to be caught.”

He shoves himself up in a rush of motion, almost startling her back. He’s taller than she realized from watching him from the trees, and he looms over her. His helmet is even more clearly askew from this perspective, but then he raises his hands to his neck, and after a brief moment of struggle, wrenches the thing from his head. 

She draws an involuntary gasp. With the helmet, she had unconsciously thought of him like she would any of the other animals of the forest - different, other from her. Without it, he is still clearly other, but in a more personal way. He is obviously human, features heavy and dark as he scowls at her. She hasn’t been so close to someone who knew she was there since nearly before she can remember. To the side, the other guards gallop past, failing to notice the pair on the ground while they observe each other.

“And yet, I’ll catch it all the same,” he says, voice rumbling, and she can hear it clearly now without the metal in the way. 

It takes her a moment to remember what he’s responding to, and when she does, her grip tightens on her staff and she scowls more fiercely up at him. “Why?” she demands.

“Because the emperor wants it,” he says imperiously, as if that explains everything.

“It’s not the emperor’s to have,” she says hotly.

“Is it yours?” he sneers.

“It is not mine, but I take care of it.”

“If it’s not yours, then why do you care?”

“It’s not yours either!” she insists. 

“It will be once I catch it,” he says, with a superior grin.

-

Kylo can hear the nightingale in the background of their conversation, the song pulling at his thoughts and calling him away. He just barely manages to focus on the the woman before him, fascinated by the mystery she represents. Did she tame the nightingale? Or does she simply use it for her own purposes? She is odd, almost bird-like herself, and he half expects her to fly away at any moment, taking back to the trees from which she came. 

She bares her teeth at him, then darts to the side and swings her staff at the back of his knees. He goes down again, reacquainting himself with the forest floor. She follows him, stepping on the arm that tries to reach for his sword and shoving the staff in the back of his neck. He attempts to throw her off and get up, but she only shoves harder and he grunts. “It won’t be,” she tells him forcefully.

With her above him, he can feel that she’s sturdier than she looks, keeping him in place with apparently minimal effort. There are sounds of a struggle up ahead, and though he can’t see anything with his face shoved into the ground, he can guess that his guards have caught up with the nightingale. The pressure on his neck and arm grows sharper and he knows that the woman must have realized this as well. He twists his head to catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye. She’s staring blankly ahead. Her mouth has fallen open and her expression is torn. 

He holds himself perfectly still for a moment then flips over in a single movement, throwing his entire weight behind his shoulder to knock her off of him. As he expected, she’s caught off guard, distracted by the shouts ahead, and she lands on her back with him on top of her legs. She recovers more quickly than he expects, using the momentum he started and shoving her knee into his shoulder so that they keep rolling. He’s on his back now, with her straddling his chest, knees pressed hard into his shoulders and feet digging into his arms. She still has hold of her staff and it’s against his neck again, pressed crossways against him rather than poking into him. It doesn’t feel like an improvement. 

They stare at each other, each trying to take the other’s measure. She frowns down at him, barely breathing any harder for having put him on the ground again. Suddenly, there’s a sharp, discordant squawk and the bird’s song stops. The forest becomes ominously quiet. The pressure on his neck increases and he swallows, feeling the staff hard against his windpipe. The woman looks down at him, mouth twisted in indecision, then with a last shove against him, she stands up. Her feet are on either side of his chest and Kylo looks up at her.

“Don’t hurt it,” she says forcefully, and then she’s gone, disappearing into the trees too fast for him to follow. 

He lays on the ground for another moment, dazed and not entirely convinced he hasn’t hit his head and imagined the whole encounter. A shout of triumph startles him to his feet. He glances around, but there is no sign the mysterious woman was ever there besides the bruises he can feel forming on his neck and arms. Putting her out of his mind for now, he finds his horse, thankfully still nearby, mounts it, and spurs it into the woods, the shouts growing louder as they go.

He emerges into a clearing and sees two guards kneeling on the ground, hands grabbing at something feathery and struggling. 

“Careful!” the third shouts, then shoves his shoulder into one of the ones on the ground and catches the bird as it tries to escape. He cradles it to his chest, still restraining it but doing so more gently, with its wings tucked into its sides instead of flailing dangerously. 

The other guards sit dumbly for a moment, until one manages to regain his wits and picks up a burlap sack that must have been discarded in the struggle. He throws it over the bird and the arms of the guard holding it, who reluctantly releases it into the bag.

“The nightingale?” Kylo inquires as he steps fully into view. The guards all jump and turn to face him.

“Yes, sir,” one answers, as the other ties the top of the sack. He hands it to Kylo wordlessly.

Kylo accepts it and secures it to his saddle. The bird still struggles within, beating against the burlap. “We will join the others,” he says, abruptly turning his horse back to the direction they came from, not waiting for the others to mount behind him. As he leaves, he thinks he sees a flash of brown hair out of the corner of his eye and nearly turns his horse to chase it. He stops himself as soon as he realizes what he’s doing. The woman is inconsequential; he has his prize.

-

Rey curses as she drops out of the trees and takes off into a run after the group. It took all she had not to attack the whole group when she had found them crushing the nightingale. She might have done it anyway, despite knowing she couldn’t possibly take on all three successfully, if the dark-skinned soldier hadn’t taken the bird from the other two. He had handled the nightingale marginally better, enough to keep Rey in the trees and wait for her moment. But now the leader was riding away, and could take it away from the forest forever if she couldn’t catch him.

Luckily, they stop once they reached the main road, and she made up the little distance she had lost. They certainly hadn’t taken the most direct route back, and she had noticed more than once that the soldier seemed to be directing them more than the leader. Once on the path, the same soldier blew on a horn, making a noise that echoed throughout the forest, ensuring that even if she had lost them, it wouldn’t have been difficult to find them again.

The loud man is almost worse than the horn, blabbering on from the moment the soldiers return as if he were the one to catch the nightingale. His face is slack with simple-minded relief. She wishes she had the chance to play with him while he was alone, but it would be reckless now.

He continues his pompous chatter even after the second group of soldiers returns, led by the tall woman. Rey watches the group carefully, waiting for her chance, but the leader is constantly on his guard, horse pacing slightly back and forth, hand twitching at the top of the sack. He continually glances back at the woods, like he’s watching for something, and she wonders if he’s looking for her. She does her best to keep out of his sight.

He takes the party from the forest, sticking closely to the path. By the time they have reached the edge of the woods, evening has just begun to set in. The leader looks for a moment as if he might press on, but stops instead, and the group spreads out in an area that looks as if it has been recently used. She waits to be certain they are settled for the night before sprinting back through the woods to her home, to find the supplies she needs to follow them. 

The night passes slowly, and Rey is frustrated by the uninterrupted vigilance of the group. If it were only the single guard, she would have the nightingale back safely where it belongs before the sun could begin to touch the sky, but all of the soldiers remain moments away from reaching for their swords the entire night. From a distance, the dark shapes on the ground look still. Rey can see from her perch in the treeline the fidgeting and restless motion that belies the group's alertness, along with the shapes that are too still for sleep. The leader is the worst, twitching incessantly, hand never leaving the bag tucked under his head. Seeing the nightingale restrained still causes Rey physical pain, even though it’s stopped struggling. If there were any chance she could successfully free it, she would, but she can't see a way to do so without ending up restrained herself.

In lieu of a daring rescue attempt, Rey tries to get some sleep, anticipating long days ahead. Yet she's as restless as the group below, tossing and turning as much as she can in her position. Dawn finds her anxious and exhausted, standing at the edge of the forest, trying to come to terms with leaving for the first time since her parents had left her there.

She can barely remember her family. The clearest impression she has of her parents is the hazy memory of them abandoning her. In it, the world is burning and she's clinging to a man she thinks is her father. Her mother is running beside them and something is chasing them, quickly closing in. Rey is placed on the ground and shoved towards the now familiar forest, then a dark and terrifying unknown. They tell her to run, _please Rey_ , run as far as she can and they'll come back for her. Their pursuer is nearly on top of them and, finally, she runs into the woods, small legs barely able to hold her up. Behind her she can hear shouts and then screams but she can't stop, she has to _run_ -

She shakes her head, throwing off the entangling threads of the memory. The world outside of the forest faces her. If she leaves now, she has to accept that no one is coming back for her, that the hope she has clung to for fifteen years has been empty all along. 

She watches as the camp wakes up and prepares to leave. The small shape of the bird spreads its wings within the sack, then realizes its situation and begins to panic. Its frantic struggles provide the last bit of incentive Rey needs to steel her resolve.

She has built other creatures before and since, but none possessed the same life as the nightingale. She spent days carefully piecing together its fragile body and complex wings, recreating the miracle of flight she’s seen in the birds of the forest. Even after all her painstaking work, the bird would be nothing more than a detailed statue if it hadn’t also found some breath of life under her hands, developing a spirit of its own as she cared for and created it. A few of the other creatures she made attained some of that life, the most successful a squirrel that would dart around and explore the area around her home, but none like the nightingale. It’s her greatest success and closest companion, and she knows it cannot survive long without her.

The group packs and leaves with little fanfare, and Rey waits until they are far enough along the road that her presence won't be noticed before stepping from the forest. She shivers and represses the urge to glance behind her. Clutching her pack to her, she walks along the road, hesitantly at first, feeling incredibly exposed without trees surrounding her. Her thoughts flash back to her parents, and her heart clenches. If they come back for her now, there will be no one for them to find.

Throughout the day, the group grows farther away from her, as she expected. She closes some of the distance when they stop to rest for short periods, and continues walking into the night to make up the rest. When she is within a comfortable distance of their camp, she finds a small hollow to sleep and pulls the blanket she packed over herself. She curls tightly around her pack and looks up at the sky, wide open and endless.

The next day of travel progresses much the same as the first. There begin to be more people on the road, and Rey has to fight her long-ingrained instinct to duck out of sight. Eventually she starts looking more closely at those who pass out of the corner of her eye, instinctively assessing what they have that could be useful to her and how easily she could get at it. But even when a particularly tempting group passes, wealthy and poorly guarded, she sticks to the road, trailing behind the soldiers. 

As they reach the towns and cities, Rey doesn’t know where to look, her eyes darting from sight to sight. She’s never been around so many people at once in her life, and the crowds just keep getting thicker, a far cry from the empty roads near the forest. The first time someone brushes by her, she nearly swings her staff at them in defense, but they're gone before she can react. Those little contacts become more common and she can't get used to them, jumping every time, though she manages not to attack anyone. Between the tall and crowded buildings and the throngs of people, she worries that she'll lose sight of her prey in a place she can't track them, but the crowds slow the soldiers as well. She ducks around people and draws closer to the group, situating herself in their wake. With the way people part nervously around them, she is able to keep pace right up until they reach a set of elaborate gates. 

The gates are set in a high wall, too high to see anything other than a slanted roof over the top. The wall extends in either direction until it's lost in the streets of the city. It ends in columns on either side of the brightly painted gates, covered in designs that focus on a circular symbol at the center. Rey stops short of the gates, following the lead of the crowd, who give them a wide berth. The soldiers, however, continue on, riding straight to the center, where a pair of guards wait. The leader barely pauses before the guards pull the gates open just enough for him and his party to ride through. She catches the glances the guards cast at the sack the leader still clutches. It's still, and she hopes desperately that the bird is only resting, not hurt.

 

Rey watches with dismay as the gates fall heavily shut behind the group, the nightingale lost to her sight. She narrows her eyes, carefully gauging the wall and forming a plan. It takes a moment for her to realize that she's stood still for too long. One of the guards notices her in the crowd and eyes her suspiciously. She quickly turns away and slips between two people, deliberately avoiding touching them. She looks around carefully as she is reabsorbed into the crowd, consciously trying to move with the flow around her. It's late afternoon, and she needs a place to lay low until night. 

The stress and fear and exhaustion of the past days have worn on Rey so heavily that by the time she finds a convenient rooftop and lodges herself in a position where she can watch the gates, she falls asleep almost immediately, despite shingles digging into her through her light clothes. She drifts in and out of consciousness over the next several hours, the streets below her emptying out in flashes as darkness sets in. She jerks awake sometime in the night to find the world around her almost completely dark, lit by shuttered flames throughout the city, flickering like frightened stars. A light from beyond the wall shines like the moon in counterpoint, a greater and steady glow. She can see a little more of the buildings beyond from her position, enough to tell there are several of them, all connected, and the light comes from the largest.

She peers down at the gates, keeping herself still. Torches have been lit on either side, illuminating the two guards standing at attention, who show no signs of exhaustion despite the lateness of the hour. She extends her gaze along the length of the wall, which fades into darkness in either direction. None of the lights of the city come close enough to illuminate it. 

Keeping a watchful eye on the guards, Rey slowly climbs down from the roof, staying in the shadows. Once on the ground, she follows along the wall from the streets, casting nervous glances over her shoulder. She passes near one of the lights and can hear heavy footsteps from the next street over. Through the narrow gaps between buildings, she catches glimpses of a pair of guards in white, pacing. She barely breathes until she passes them. 

She stops in an unlit alley and, after waiting for a moment to ensure the stretch of wall is deserted, steps out from the cover of the buildings. Standing at the base of the wall, she looks up at its height, which almost seems to disappear into the night sky. She squares her shoulders and checks that her pack is well secured, then reaches up the wall, wedging her fingers into a narrow crack between stones. She pulls herself up, wedging her toes into another crack, and begins her climb. 

The wall was built to be as smooth as possible, and Rey’s climb is challenging. Her only advantage is that it slants ever so slightly in, so that the top is narrower than the base. Her fingers and toes ache to nearly the point of numbness by the time she reaches the top, and she sincerely believes she could fall back asleep laying there, arms dangling on either side of the wall. The light from the other side of the wall prevents her from resting for long, exposing her to anyone who might look. She backs down the wall carefully, lowering herself almost as slowly as she climbed up, though she finds herself rushing towards the end, eager to be safely under some sort of cover. 

She jumps the last several feet, landing nimbly. She lets out a sigh of relief but is interrupted halfway through by a sharp metal point shoved into the back of her neck. She freezes immediately, cursing herself thoroughly for not checking her landing. 

“Don’t move!” a voice whispers harshly from behind her. 

She doesn’t answer but holds her position, hands raised and open in front of her. 

“What are you doing?” the voice asks, slightly louder. 

She remains silent, mind racing. 

“I recognize you,” the voice says, quieter again, and her heart leaps into her throat. “I saw you - in the forest. And then-” he pauses “-in the city,” he concludes, firmly. “You were there. You were following us?”

She hesitates, then nods, carefully, all too aware of the weapon still pressed to her neck. 

“Why?” he asks, with genuine curiosity. 

She chances a look over her shoulder and her eyes widen in recognition. The man holding her at swordpoint is the soldier from the forest that had protected the nightingale. He catches her gaze and holds it, looking nervous but determined.

“Is it yours?” he asks.

“No!” she says forcefully, realizing a moment too late how loud her voice is. She swiftly glances around, almost expecting more soldiers to appear. The sword digs into her neck as the man behind her turns and does the same. 

“Then why are you here?” he asks in an aggressive whisper.

She casts around for the right words. “I take care of it,” she says finally. “It can’t live on its own.”

The pressure on her neck lessens slightly. She watches out of the corner of her eye as the man’s expression twitches, gaze focused inward. She considers trying to overtake him, but with his sword against her pulse, even an accidental move could kill her. Eventually, his features settle again. “Okay,” he says to himself, uncertainly. He looks up and his eyes meet hers. “Okay,” he says more firmly.

She watches him warily as he slowly lowers his sword. He watches her as if he expects her to run away, but she holds her ground. He’s her best option for the moment. “Come with me,” he says, and then holds out his hand to her. She eyes it askance, uncertain what he expects. She has nothing to give him. He sighs and drops it, then turns away. “Come on,” he says, turning away.

She hesitates for a moment, then follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also on [tumblr](http://thewayofthetrashcompactor.tumblr.com/tagged/song-in-a-thousand-pieces)!


	3. Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown

Snoke must have anticipated him, because another pair of guards is waiting for Kylo just inside of the palace gates. The rest of the group is directed to the stables, taking his horse with them, while he is led directly to the main hall. It’s full, which Kylo had not anticipated. He walks between the crowds on either side, feeling the Emperor’s gaze weighing heavy on him. He bows deeply before the throne, holding the sack containing the proof of his success. He holds it out, preparing to open it, but the emperor holds up a hand. Kylo immediately lowers it, uncertain. 

“This will be presented tonight,” he announces for the whole court to hear.

Civilized applause breaks out throughout the hall. Snoke flicks his eyes towards Hux, standing in his position to the right of the throne. He steps forward immediately, and Kylo’s hands tighten on the sack before he reluctantly places it in Hux’s hand. Hux smirks as he steps back, and Kylo turns on his heel, striding out of the hall as whispers echo through the crowds.

When Kylo enters the hall that night, a golden stand has been set up next to the throne, fixed to the floor. A huddled shape is perched on top of it, covered with a silk scarf. Snoke stands from his throne and the crowd falls silent immediately. 

“Our most loyal Knight has brought for us tonight one of the Empire’s greatest jewels, so that it might rest safely under the guardianship of the palace, and so that those most loyal to the emperor,” he pauses, looking around the room so that everyone in it feels the weight of his stare, “might hear for themselves its glory and in it the glory of the Empire. Lord Ren,” he concludes, looking pointedly at Kylo.

Kylo bows. Eyes across the hall focus on him, including Snoke’s. He pulls the scarf from the bird, seeing it for himself for the first time since it was captured. It doesn’t look like much, brown and bedraggled, projecting a despairing air even without human features. Fine golden chains end in cuffs that encircle each leg, attaching it to the stand. The bird shuffles restlessly on its perch, the chains clinking softly as it moves. It tries to fly, but it can barely rise above the stand before it is abruptly pulled back down. 

The bird flutters disconsolately, making no noise besides the soft ruffle of its wings. Kylo’s hands curl, though his gloves deaden the feeling of his nails digging into his palms. Snoke leans forward, his brows beginning the descent into a frown. Panic and anger flare through Kylo. Snoke’s mouth opens, but the nightingale beats him to it, breaking out into clear and beautiful song. 

The tensions that filled Kylo are washed away by the music, and he luxuriates in the sound. It starts faintly, hardly enough to be heard, yet it still catches the ear of everyone there. The music is almost overwhelmed by the collective gasp the crowd draws at the first notes, and Kylo can hear them leaning forward through the song. It builds, swirling and dancing around the corners of the hall, flirting around the ceiling before crashing in force over the crowds, notes that sound like too much to have been contained by a simple bird. The song echoes from the back of the hall and folds back on itself, crescendoing in dizzying trills. 

Kylo is captured within the song, lost in the notes, and yet even as the music pours over his senses, a vague sense whispers that something is missing. Even in its glory, the song is somehow less than it had been in the forest.

Sooner than the court would like, the nightingale falls silent, slumping on the perch. The room is quiet for a moment, empty after the force of the music, then erupts into chatter, even louder than the bird had been. 

“Again!” a voice calls out, and it’s echoed throughout the hall, growing in volume.

Snoke stands, and they fall silent. “The nightingale has performed sufficiently for tonight.” He resumes his seat and the chatter begins again, more subdued. 

They politely shove towards the front of the room, wanting to catch a closer glimpse of the miraculous nightingale. Kylo watches the disappointment and confusion on a parade of faces as they see the unassuming bird for themselves. Their eagerness turns to derision and whispers behind cupped hands. The whole court rotates through the room, each taking their turn to scoff at the nightingale. Despite their disdain, they linger late into the night and the early morning, occasionally coming back for another glimpse.

Snoke is the last to leave, once all the court have found their beds, his exit a slow procession. Kylo remains in the dark room with the nightingale. He fingers the chains holding the bird down, glittering in the dim light against the bird’s dull feathers. The nightingale lets him handle the chains, looking at him with its head cocked to the side. He leaves with a last glance at the bird.

-

The guard leads Rey from the wall into the palace complex, sticking to the edges and the shadows and giving a wide berth to the building spilling over with light and noise. His head twitches back and forth as he hurries along the paths. His paranoia increases her own nervousness, amplified by the adrenaline still racing through her from her climb over the wall. 

The building he takes her to is dirtier than the others they’ve passed, grungy against endless walls that could have been freshly painted. It’s separated from the other buildings as well, as if they’re trying to distance themselves from it. The smell of animals adds to the grubby nature of the place. Torchlight shines brightly from the wide entrance, and her first instinct is to shy away, but the guard rushes forward. She catches an expression of relief on his face in the glow. Before he reaches the entrance, another man appears from inside, and this time she does duck away into the shadows at the side of the building.

“Finn!” the new man cries out in a voice that seems far too loud for the empty courtyard. She doesn’t see much of him before he wraps the guard in a tight hug. 

“Hey, Poe,” Finn mumbles, muffled by the man’s shoulder, hugging him back. He attempts to pull away, glancing towards Rey, but the other man holds him tight, and he gives in with a smile. “I wasn’t even gone a week,” he says, not really protesting.

“Too long,” Poe says happily, before letting him go. Their hands rest on each other’s arms and they stand gazing at each other and grinning. “Can’t wait to hear what’s going on out in the wide world,” Poe says finally, and turns to lead Finn inside, but Finn hesitates. Poe looks at him curiously.

“I- There’s someone you need to meet,” he says, and Poe’s expression becomes thoroughly confused. Finn looks at Rey in the shadows and she steps forward, steeling herself to run. Poe’s eyes widen impossibly. “This is-” he trails off, looking guiltily at Rey. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Rey,” she interrupts. “I’m Rey.”

“Rey,” Finn nods, giving her a tentative smile, which she returns. He looks back to Poe. “She, well, she followed us back, we took something she’s responsible for, and she needs to be with it.” He pauses, then plunges forward. “Can she stay here? I can’t take her to the barracks, I know it’s a lot to ask-”

“Of course,” Poe says, smiling. “There’s a perfect spot-” He turns again to go in but Finn stops him with a hand on his arm.

“They can’t know she’s here,” he says lowly, eyes intent on Poe’s, nervousness coming back to his features. “The emperor, Kylo Ren - he - they can’t.”

Poe grasps his shoulders firmly, meeting his gaze. “They won’t,” he promises. “I understand, Finn. They won’t find her.”

Finn nods, his gaze still locked with Poe’s. Rey watches the exchange with uncertainty. Much of her fate is in their hands now. She could run, but given her options, she decides to trust them.

“We should get inside,” Poe says, and Finn nods. Rey follows them in. 

The building holds animals, as the smell suggested. Horses fill most of the individual stalls lined along the length of the building, and torches placed on the opposite wall from the animals provide the light. Poe takes them along the side of the building, passing by a second row of horses, then behind a wall that Rey wouldn’t have noticed at first glance. Behind the wall is another stall like the others, with a door in front, furnished with a pile of hay. 

“It’s not much,” Poe says with a hesitant smile, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing at Rey. “It’s kind of an isolation area. I’ve used it a couple times, but no one comes back here. We can grab you a couple of blankets and all.”

Rey smiles at him. “It’s great,” she says.

“Great,” he repeats, smile widening. He leans against the wall and ruffles his hair. “So what did you come here for?” he asks hesitantly. He glances at Finn and continues, “Finn said you have to take care of something the guard brought back? I heard some things from the court-”

Finn rolls his eyes. “‘Some things.’ You’re one of the biggest gossips in the palace, you probably heard the whole conversation minutes after Snoke did.”

Poe flashes a grin at him and throws his hand over his heart in mock pain. “I am hurt you think so little of my skills. If I’m not the biggest gossip here, I demand to know who is.” His smile fades slightly. “This one was hard though, there was barely anything to hear. Something about a bird?”

Rey hesitates, then nods. “A nightingale,” she confirms. “I couldn’t abandon it, it won’t survive on its own.”

Poe nods thoughtfully, brow creased. “What’s so special about it? The Imperial Guard don’t usually get sent across the empire to catch small animals.”

She shrugs. “It sings.”

“It _sings_?” Finn scoffs. “That bird’s music is the most incredible thing in this empire, even Snoke himself has to admit it. It _sings_ ,” he says, finishing in a mutter.

Poe smiles at him, still looking thoughtful. “Guess I’ll have to hear it for myself sometime.”

Finn snorts. “Unlikely we’ll get to. It was taken to Snoke directly. I’m betting the party tonight is for the court to hear it.”

Poe nods. “If it’s being kept with the court, how are you going to get to it?” 

“We’ll have to go in late,” Finn says. “I can take her there tomorrow, before my rounds. It should be empty then.” He glances over his shoulder. “I need to get back out there. Someone will notice soon that I’m behind.” 

“Stay safe,” Poe says earnestly, grabbing his shoulder. 

Finn nods, gripping his hand. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow.” He looks at Rey. “See you then.” He turns and leaves and Rey listens to his footsteps fading as they leave the stable.

Poe sighs, eyes lingering after him, then turns to Rey and smiles. “Get some rest. I’ll grab you some blankets.”

He leaves as Rey collapses onto the hay. She stares up at the ceiling, trying to come to terms with the direction her life has taken in the past day. She is still staring sightlessly when Poe peeks his head in and sets a pair of thin blankets next to her.

“Night,” he says quietly, as he leaves again. 

Rey rolls over and grabs the blankets, feeling the coarse fabric. Sighing, she gets up and arranges the hay into a comfortable nest. She lays one blanket down and curls on top of it, tucking her pack in the center, clinging to the bit of her home she still has. She pulls the other blanket on top of her and closes her eyes. The adrenaline has left her, and exhaustion takes its place. The stall is far different from curling on rooftops or in fields, and she falls asleep immediately.

-

She wakes mid-morning to sunlight shining into her stall from the gap between the wall and the roof. She curls into a tighter ball as her eyes slowly open, adjusting to her surroundings. The unfamiliar setting sends a jolt of panic through her at first, but she soon calms as her memories come to her. She shifts to sit against the wall, wrapping her arms around her legs. She can hear the horses in the stable shifting in their stalls, the flick of their tails, and the rustle of them eating. A few people walk around, their footsteps treading back and forth on the wooden floors. The smell hits her again now that she’s awake, sharp and unfamiliar, with notes of hay and leather in the overwhelming scent of horse.

She barely moves throughout the day, simply staring at the sliver of sunlight and listening, occasionally absently weaving the hay surrounding her. She dozes off here and there, but by the time night comes and torchlight replaces the sun, she is wide awake.

Footsteps approach her stall, stopping at the entrance, which no other person has done today. She tenses, her staff resting across her knees. Poe slowly rounds the corner, eyes seeking her out over the top of the door. She relaxes and eyes the bundle in his hands curiously. 

“Brought you some food,” he offers, holding it out to her, and her eyes light up. 

She scrambles to her feet. “Thanks,” she says, her voice cracking. 

He grimaces. “Sorry, couldn’t come by earlier without anyone noticing. There’s water too,” he says, poking the full skin he’s holding with the food. 

She sits down to eat and he sits with her, leaning against the wall as she devours her meal. The food she brought with her was substantial enough to get her to the city, but her rations are running very low. This is filling, much more so than her stores, and warm, something she rarely experiences. She wants to consume the entire bundle at once, but she stops herself, carefully setting aside a portion to save. Poe notices and frowns.

“I’ll bring you more tomorrow,” he says. She doesn’t meet his eyes. “I promise.”

“Okay,” she says, and leaves the rest of the food all the same. She trusts him, as much as she can for someone she’s not even known for a day, but there’s never a reason not to save something just in case. 

Finn arrives as she’s wiping the crumbs from her face. Poe grins widely and pats the floor next to him, inviting him to sit, but Finn shakes his head, shifting on his feet nervously instead. 

“We should go,” he says, when Rey has wrapped the rest of her food and set it aside.

“Already?” Poe asks, frowning slightly.

“The palace is dark, and after last night, the court will sleep early and heavy,” Finn explains. 

Poe nods his understanding and pushes himself to his feet. “You ready?” he asks Rey. 

She stands. “Yes.”

Finn nods. “Try to stay close to me, but get out of sight if anyone comes, okay?”

She agrees and follows him from the stables to the palace. She pays careful attention to each turn they make, creating a map in her head of their path. Finn is tense and he keeps his gaze focused ahead, looking every bit the professional guard. The palace is darker than it was the previous night, with no blaze of light, only low burning torches lighting their way on the walls. No one else roams the halls. Their footsteps are loud on the wooden floors, Finn’s especially, and Rey worries that someone will hear them. 

Finn stops in front of a wooden door, similar to the many others they’ve passed. He glances around and turns the knob, slowly pushing it open. He gestures for Rey to enter and she does, with him following. This hall is lit only by the moonlight coming through the high windows, and her eyes take a moment to adjust. The first thing she sees is the nightingale, sitting on a perch on a platform at the top of the hall. She rushes to it, running her hands over it, taking note of its injuries even as she rejoices in holding it again. 

“I’ll be back after my rounds,” Finn says from behind her, smiling.

She shakes her head. “It’s fine, I can find my way back.”

He frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she says, still smiling at the nightingale. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

He hesitates, then nods jerkily. “Tomorrow night.” 

The bird is more ragged than she’d like, feathers dirty and ruffled, some missing, its wings not quite right. She does her best to fix it, but she doesn’t have the proper tools, and the angle is odd with it stuck on the perch. By the time she has fixed the worst problems, the bird looks a little better, and the gray streaks of predawn have begun to cross the sky. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” she murmurs to the nightingale as she leaves. 

She makes her way back to the stables and falls back on her nest of hay. Now that the rush of emotion at being able to see the nightingale is fading, anger over how it’s been treated takes its place. She’s not sure how much longer it would have survived without help, and it’s infuriating to think that it should have come so close to its end. She eventually falls asleep, still burning with anger.

She wakes up later in the day, and the wait until the evening is much shorter. Poe brings her food and he and Finn talk. She’s years out of practice with having regular conversations with people, but she enjoys listening to them, finding comfort in their ease with each other. 

“You okay on your own?” Finn asks as he leaves, disentangling himself from Poe, and she assures him that she is.

She finds her way easily enough and continues working on the bird, fixing some of the details she couldn’t before, trying to figure out which things she will need tools to fix. She leaves again in the early morning. 

The next day follows in a pattern with the previous, and though it’s not ideal, it’s good enough for now.

-

Kylo leaves his room, careful not to let Snoke hear him. He walks silently through the corridors to the main hall, where the nightingale sleeps. It was odd, the past couple days, that the nightingale suddenly appeared much healthier than it had before, but he can guess the cause. He remembers the flashes of brown he saw out of the corner of his eye on his way back to the palace, right up until they arrived at the main gates, when he was almost certain he saw the woman from the forest in the crowd. 

He settles into a dark corner of the hall where he can clearly see the nightingale. As he suspected, she sneaks in and goes directly to the bird. He watches as she runs her hands over it, making small adjustments as she goes. He waits for another moment and then steps from the shadows.

“I thought it wasn’t yours,” he says, voice just loud enough for her to hear.

Her head snaps up to look at him and he thinks for a moment that she’ll run. She remains tense, but stays in place, a hand still on the nightingale. “It’s not,” she replies, slightly too loud, her voice echoing through the hall. 

He winces and walks closer, watching her force herself to hold her ground. “You’ve certainly gone through a lot of trouble for it, if that’s the case.”

“You don’t have to own something to care about it,” she fires back, chin tilted up to glare at him as he steps into her space. “Why do you wear that?” she asks angrily, gesturing at his mask. 

He hesitates for a moment, then reaches up to remove it. There’s no one else here to see him, and she’s seen him without it before. He holds it awkwardly for a moment, then leans down to set it on the floor. He stands on the other side of the bird from her, not quite sure what to do, so he lifts a hand to touch it. He strokes it hesitantly, the sensation of the smooth feathers deadened by his gloves. “Then why do you care so much for it?”

She hesitates before answering, and he knows that no matter what she tells him, it won’t be the whole truth. “I just do,” she says, defiantly. Her hand hasn’t left the bird, but she shifts to run her fingers along its side to avoid touching him. “Besides, I couldn’t let it die,” she says, almost to herself.

He frowns. “It was never our intention to harm it.”

“It doesn’t matter if you meant to. It can’t live on its own.” She focuses on one spot on the bird’s side, frowning at it. 

His frown deepens. “Why not?”

She glances up at him. “Because I made it. I never figured out how to make it well enough that it didn’t need fixing every few days. Though it’s usually not this bad,” she says, throwing a glare at him. 

He stares at her in disbelief. “You - made a bird?” He looks over the nightingale with astonishment. The bird had always looked slightly odd to him, but he just attributed it to the same inexplicable source that gave it the ability to make music that could mesmerize people. 

She nods, like she hasn’t just said something completely unfathomable. “Birds are the hardest. This is the only one I ever got to fly. The others weren’t quite-” she pauses, mouth twisting “-real. Just models really. The mouse was easy, even if it didn’t run quite right, though it managed well enough to run away. Too stupid to live,” she mutters lowly, sounding upset.

“How?” he says, the only word he can manage from the barrage of questions running through his mind. 

She looks at him curiously, as if she doesn’t quite understand what he’s asking. “I looked at other birds,” she finally says. “And other animals. Used things I found, some things I took.” She shrugs. “I liked doing it.” She returns her attention to the bird, ignoring the dumbfounded look on his face. 

She gently prods the bird into extending the wing she’s been examining and frowns at it. Her fingers trace carefully over the individual feathers, apparently dissatisfied with what they find. “Though I had better tools back home,” she grumbles. 

“What kind of tools?” he asks, not quite sure why he does.

“Small ones,” she says, still examining the wing. “Things I could use to get into the gaps here or work these pieces back into place.” 

He nods, already thinking where he could find a set she could use. He generally doesn’t spend time with tradesmen, but there is a fine metalworker with a shop on the palace grounds. It wouldn’t be difficult to stop by and take what she needed, and it wasn’t as if anyone would question him. Some part of him briefly wonders why he should bother, but he reminds himself that the nightingale is the emperor’s now, and it’s only right that it be kept in the best order possible.

She continues working on the bird, fingers nimbly exploring every part of it. He watches, though he knows he should be asleep in his room. There’s no reason for him to needlessly exhaust himself. Nevertheless, he stands by her through the night, occasionally asking her about the bird. Her answers remain unfathomable, and eventually as her movements subside into simply stroking the bird, seemingly lost in thought. He shifts and she tenses, as if she’s forgotten he’s there. 

When he begins to worry that she intends to stay until Snoke arrives for court, she suddenly steps away from the bird. She glances back at him as she hesitantly walks to the door and he follows her, stopping briefly to snatch his mask from the floor. She leaves the hall and by the time he passes through the door, she’s disappeared into the palace. He considers chasing after her, but he’s certain he knows where she’ll be tomorrow night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to the [Reylo Fanfiction Anthology](https://reylofanfictionanthology.tumblr.com/), and I'm also on [tumblr](http://thewayofthetrashcompactor.tumblr.com/)!


	4. While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad

Rey leans against the wall just around the corner from the main hall, breathing shallowly. She listens as the black armored knight’s footsteps trail off into some other area of the palace. She waits another moment, then darts down the hall, nearly sprinting back to the stables. Once she’s safely back in her stall she lays on the hay, panting. Her head is spinning, unable to process what just happened.

She’s on edge the next night, and Poe and Finn notice.

“You okay?” Poe asks when he hands her supper to her and she nearly drops it.

She nods jerkily and digs into the food. Poe continues to look at her with concern.

“You don’t have to go,” he says. “I’m sure your bird will be okay if you don’t check in tonight.”

She shakes her head. “I’m fine,” she says, swallowing. “I want to see it.”

Finn also looks at her oddly when he arrives, and she tries to calm herself and appear more normal. She doesn’t say anything as he and Poe talk and tries to ignore the glances they send her. 

“I can walk you over if you want,” Finn offers as he stands up to leave.

“I’ll be fine,” she says, giving a strained smile. Finn doesn’t look convinced, but nods. 

He lingers as they part outside the stables, but she continues stubbornly into the palace. 

She’s not sure if the knight will be there again. The night before was so odd that it’s like she dreamed it. He didn’t throw her out or stop her from seeing the nightingale, and she’s at a loss as to what to expect from him.

She tentatively steps into the hall, immediately glancing at the corner where he had emerged the night before. 

“Up here.” His voice comes from the front of the hall instead and she whips around to see him next to the nightingale, idly stroking it with bare hands. His mask is on the floor near the base of the stand and his gloves rest next to it. 

She approaches him warily, but he seems content to continue petting the bird. He drops his hand from the bird once she stands next to it and instead reaches into his robes. 

“Here,” he says, withdrawing a small cloth wrapped packet and shoving it at her. 

She takes it hesitantly and unwraps it. Inside is a set of small tools remarkably similar to the ones she had taken off a passing traveller many years ago. She looks up at him and grins delightedly. “These are perfect!”

He looks somewhat unprepared for her reaction, glancing down and shuffling awkwardly, but he returns her smile with a strange version of his own. She moves to stand next to him so she can get to work on the worse of the nightingale’s wings. She withdraws the tool she needs to hold the small pieces in place, and then remembers the nightingale’s awkward position as she stands with a tool in one hand, and the set in the other. She glances at the ground, then at the knight. 

“Hold these?” she asks, holding the rest of the tools out to him. He holds out a hand and she places them in it. The set fits easily in his palm, the slender tools looking even smaller compared to him. 

She spreads out the bird’s wing and begins prodding at the small pieces at the top. She finds the problem spot and begins pressing at it, working the parts back into place. She reaches absently for where she would normally place her tools, then looks up to see the knight standing at an awkward distance from her. 

She huffs. “Pass me the pinchers?” she asks, gesturing to the tools. 

He looks down and takes a step closer. “The what?”

“These,” she replies, grabbing the tool.

“I think those are tweezers,” he says, frowning vaguely.

She shrugs. “They still work the same,” she says, already working with them. 

She’s struggling to keep the wing pinched in place between two fingers, while trying to hold one tool with the other three and adjust one of the pieces with her other hand, when the knight’s hand suddenly appears in her field of vision. He reaches over and gently holds the wing for her. She looks up at him questioningly.

“Go ahead,” he says, nodding to the bird. 

She goes back to work, adjusting his hand as she needs to. The skin on skin contact sends a jolt through her, but she does her best to keep her hands steady, not letting it show. 

She continues through the night, making fine adjustments to the places where she noticed damage before. It’s slow work, and she’s still not done by the time she needs to leave. She reluctantly slides the tools she’s holding back into their places and wraps up the set. 

She debates with herself, then finally asks, “Are you going to come back tomorrow?” 

His eyes widen, then he nods, and she lets herself smile. She walks around him to leave, but stops at the sound of his voice.

“What’s your name?” 

She turns back to him. “Rey,” she says simply.

“Rey,” he repeats. “Kylo.”

She nods, smiles, and leaves. 

-

She’s almost excited the next night, eager to get back to work. Kylo is waiting for her, and she gives him a small smile before holding out the tools to him. He responds with his odd smile as he accepts them, and they work silently through the night. She’s nearly satisfied with her results by dawn, with only a few adjustments left for tomorrow. 

The nights pass quietly. Rey listens to Finn and Poe, growing to enjoy their comfortable energy. Spending time with Kylo has a different kind of energy, more on edge, neither of them knowing quite what to expect from each other. She finishes with the major repairs to the bird and has little to do besides small adjustments each night, but she returns all the same to spend time with it. Kylo keeps returning as well, though he says almost nothing, and she’s not any more talkative.

It startles her when he starts talking one night, like he’s been having a conversation she wasn’t aware of. 

“It’s insulting, is what it is, the way Plutt’s been acting. Strutting around like he made the nightingale himself.” He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, glowering in the vague direction of the nightingale.

She blinks. “Who?”

He waves a hand. “The man who came with me when we caught it. Not one of the guard, the other one.” She nods and he continues. “He’s been acting like I couldn’t have found the bird without him, when in truth, I would have been better off with an untrained dog than that useless excuse for a person. I should have just left him there for the monsters.”

She laughs and he looks shocked, then pleased, giving her an awkward smile. “Weren’t many of those around,” she offers when seems like he’ll let the silence fall over them again. 

“No?” he says curiously.

“Just me,” she says, shrugging. “There might be some hiding where there aren’t people trampling through all the time. Not sure whether I would have preferred them or not,” she says contemplatively. “Might have been nice to have something big around to catch to get through the winter, but at least I didn’t have to worry much about being eaten.”

“So no terrifying beasts?” he asks, cocking his head.

She smiles. “Not that I saw. I had to rely on travelers coming through to get what I needed. That man, Plutt, was one of the best,” she says, reminiscing. He’s looking at her oddly, expression somewhere between disapproval and amusement. “He’s terrified of the forest,” she adds, grinning, and the latter wins out.

“I know,” he replies, his smile showing teeth. 

“He always was,” she says, and Kylo shifts, focusing on her. “Even the first time he passed through. And scared means they have something good worth getting from them most of the time, and with all the people he had, he definitely had something good. It was mostly food, and a few other interesting pieces, but that food…” She smiles. “I ate well for several days after he came through. Every time. He kept coming back too, more scared each time. Last time he was so scared he could barely stay on his horse. Kept mumbling about ghosts.” She laughs. “I would have gone after him in his sleep, but I didn’t want him to stop coming back.” 

Kylo gives a strangled, hacking sort of sound and she jumps. Her smile falters; she hadn’t meant to say so much to him. She watches him warily before she realizes he’s laughing. He looks a bit surprised at himself, but grins at her. “I really should have left him,” he says. “He would have died of fright before anything could have gotten him. Would have given a final good meal to whatever’s living there.”

She laughs as well. “I’m not sure any of them would have known what to do with him.”

“Really? Not a single monster?” he insists.

She shakes her head, smiling. “Not one. It’s not easy to live there, but not because of the animals.”

He hums slightly, settling back against the wall. “Easier to live here?” he asks.

She shrugs again. “In a way. It’ll be good to go back home though.” As soon as she says it, she has a moment of doubt. 

He looks up at her, eyes wide. “When will that be?” he says quickly, a little desperately. 

“Whenever the emperor is done with the nightingale, I suppose,” she says, not meeting his eyes.

He frowns. “It’s his now; he won’t ever be done with it.” Something strange shows in his eyes and he looks away. “You don’t want him to be,” he mumbles.

She rolls her eyes. “You keep saying that, that it’s his.”

“Because it is,” he says irritably.

She huffs and doesn’t answer, instead stroking the bird. He watches her, and they’re quiet until morning. 

She’s grateful when he doesn’t bring it up again the following night; she’s tired and confused by his insistence on the subject. She thinks it will be another silent night, but then he begins talking again, complaining about some other court member she doesn’t know, and their conversations become a new sort of pattern.

-

In her stall, Rey is only partially insulated from the outside, but the shift in seasons still manages to take her by surprise. The arrival of summer means less when she doesn’t have to plan her food months ahead of time. 

“Aren’t you hot?” she asks Finn, who is tugging at the neck of his uniform.

“A bit,” he says in a strangled voice. “But it’s not so bad. I have the night shift; it’s worse for those out there all day.” Rey hums in agreement. “But I’ll get my turn in the worst of it in winter,” he continues, shrugging. “It’s how it goes, every year.”

-

Rey would have thought that after several weeks with Kylo, she would run out of things to say. She had never had practice talking for hours to anyone; even the nightingale wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Finn and Poe would easily talk to each other the entire night if they could, and she’s happy to join them, but she and Kylo are more likely to lapse into silence. And there are nights that are quieter than others. Neither she or Kylo mind the silence, and it takes a different form when they share it. 

But more often than not, they talk. He frequently describes the antics and idiocies of the court, and she may never have met any of the people he mentions, but his sketches of their characters are enough for her. She finds herself laughing at his stories, which startles him at first, but then he breaks into a pleased sort of smile, and it pulls at Rey’s heart in a way she doesn’t quite understand. He listens to her as well, taking a devoted interest in her explanations of her creations and her stories of the forest. 

-

“The poor horse!” Finn cackles, clutching his sides. Rey rolls on the floor next to him, unable to catch her breath.

“I know!” Poe says, wiping at his eyes. “There wasn’t anything I could do! In all my years-” he pauses, dissolving into laughter. “In all my years here, I have never met someone with such a fundamental misunderstanding of what it meant to ride a horse.” He sighs happily. “The sight of that idiot on the ground is something I will take to my grave.”

Rey manages to wrestle herself into a sitting position, still wheezing. She leans against Finn, who is still shaking with laughter, and her legs brush against Poe’s. Her stomach aches pleasantly, and her chest feels full and warm.

-

“-as useless as he is insufferable,” Kylo grumbles, sulking as he stands beside her. 

Rey reaches over and pats his arm absentmindedly, not realizing what she’s doing until after he stiffens.

“Sorry,” she says quickly. Spending her evenings with Poe and Finn has helped her grow used to casual touches, but she’s reminded every time she accidentally touches him how unfamiliar those gestures are to him. 

“-it’s okay,” he says quietly, hesitantly. He raises a hand and awkwardly places it on her arm. The pressure of his hand raises a different kind of heat than being curled up with her friends. She is suddenly very grateful that his gloves are on the ground with his mask.

His eyes flick up to meet hers and he blushes a deep red, from the tips of his ears to the collar of his tunic. He swiftly lets his hand fall, as if the heat rising in her has burned him. She immediately grabs his hand, threading her fingers through his. His eyes widen, and he looks from their entwined hands to her face and back again. She smiles at him and he slowly smiles back, holding her hand more tightly as he picks the conversation up from where he left it.

-

She’s known that Poe and Finn are close since she met them; it’s obvious in the way they move around each other, the lingering touches, the glances that say more than words. She hasn’t heard all the details, but there seems to be years of history between them. 

Tonight, there’s a tension that unsettles her. Poe is telling a story and Finn is barely reacting, as if he’s somewhere else entirely. He’d normally tell them if something’s wrong, but he’s unusually quiet. When they leave for the night, Finn hesitates, and Rey waits at the doorway, confused. She watches as Finn fidgets in indecision for a moment before grabbing Poe around the neck and pressing their lips together. Poe is startled, wide-eyed, but as he begins to respond, Finn pulls away and nearly runs out of the stable, cheeks deeply flushed. Poe still seems a little dazed when Rey leaves, running the scene over in her mind. 

The atmosphere is strained the next night, though Poe and Finn both do their best to act normally. Finn tries to rush out with Rey early in the night, but Poe stops him with a hand on his arm. He looks like he might try to say something, then shakes his head instead. He cups Finn’s head in his hands and they stand for a moment, staring at each other, before Poe gently tugs him forward and their lips meet. Their heads tilt, they press closer, and Rey blushes and looks away. 

Their evenings together continue mostly unchanged, kisses becoming one of the small natural touches they share with each other. In a way, they’re almost easier with each other. Though Rey would never have said there was distance between them before, the resolution of knowing their feelings are shared allows another layer of openness, of ease. Rey lays on her back in the hay, listening to them talk next to her, and smiles, allowing herself to close her eyes for a brief moment. 

-

In the time she spends with Kylo, Rey begins to look at him in a different way, thoughts lingering on possibilities she hasn’t considered before. She gets lost looking at his lips, wondering what they would feel like, or his hands, wondering how they would feel touching her for more than a moment. 

He’s telling a story one night, probably about some court member. Rey has lost track, too busy watching his mouth to focus on the words. He stops talking and looks at her, unsure why she’s not responding. She leans in and shoves her mouth against his. 

It’s odd, this press of lips, and awkward, and strange, and she’s not really sure what to do next. The connection sends a shock through her, spreading into a warm hum, but the feel of Kylo frozen against her causes it to bleed into panic. When she can function enough to move again, she jerks, trying to pull back. She’s stopped by Kylo’s hand, which flies up and nearly slaps the back of her neck, holding her to him. They both tense, staring cross-eyed at each other. Rey relaxes first, letting her eyes slide slowly closed, pressing against him less aggressively. Kylo takes another moment before he lets himself relax as well and they shift until they fit together.

Her awareness of all the points of contact between them creates a feeling of deep satisfaction. The sensation of him settling against her lips, in her arms, is better than she imagined. She slides her lips along his experimentally and he makes a quiet, excited sound that she can feel, pressing against her again before subsiding. He returns her explorations with his own, and it’s still strange, but pleasantly so. Heat flares when they hit the right angles and as his hand curls around the back of her neck, stroking the sensitive skin there. Her hands move from his shoulders to thread into his hair and she takes inordinate pleasure in running her fingers through the soft strands. 

They break apart at the same time, both panting. Their gazes connect, then dip to each other’s lips, and they hungrily meet each other again. Rey darts her tongue out to taste him and he gasps. She explores his mouth and he returns the gesture, both hesitantly at first, then with increasing confidence.

Slowly, in a haze of touches and kisses, they end up on the floor, leaning against the wall, wrapped around each other. Kylo buries his head against her neck, not wanting to lose contact with her skin, and occasionally presses kisses there. Rey finally pries herself away come morning, lingering until it’s almost too late. 

She returns eagerly the next night, and they are drawn together almost immediately. She barely sees the room before he pulls her into a kiss and she happily returns it. 

She should feel guilty, she thinks, as they sit against the wall again some nights later. She should be here for the nightingale; it’s the reason she came to the palace, but she’s hardly touched it since she kissed Kylo. She’s done small bits of work, but most of her attention is focused on him, even if it’s just as they are now, curled up and relishing each other’s presence. 

They slowly begin to explore more of each other, building from uncertain fumblings to a tentative comfort with each other’s bodies. They push each other further each night, until Rey finds herself sprawled half naked across Kylo. She pushes his shirt up his chest, fingers trailing over the rough planes. Her eyes widen when his skin is finally exposed to her. Lines criss cross across his body, some raised, some sunken, winding from over his shoulders to below the waist of his pants. Smaller marks appear between the lines, filling in the gaps. Rey traces the line of a softer looking scar and Kylo winces and pushes her hand away. 

“What happened?” she asks quietly.

He shrugs as best he can in his position. “Training,” he says dismissively, then pulls her down for a kiss. Rey hesitates for only a moment before leaning into him.

Her hands map out his chest while his run up and down her sides, thumbs caressing around her breasts. Their mouths barely part long enough for them to draw breath, and every bit of her burns. 

He cups her breasts, brushing across her nipples, and she arches into his touch. Her hands drift down to his hips, where she begins toying with the top of his pants. Her legs ache a little at being spread across him, but it is absolutely worth it for the feeling of him under her. She wriggles further down on him and he groans, breaking their kiss. She works his pants down and he lifts his hips to let her, his hands falling to clutch her hips. 

She lowers his pants and underclothes enough to free him and he gasps and bucks into her. She glances up at him as she grips his length gently. His head is thrown back, eyes closed, expression strained. She runs her hand up and down his length and he jerks nearly hard enough to throw her off.

“ _Rey_ ,” he groans. His hands flex on her hips. “Wait-”

He uses his grip to pull her forward until she’s straddling his stomach again. They both take a moment to adjust to the sensation. His hands dive under her waistband, stripping her pants as best he can from his position. She kneels forward, shoving them down and kicking them off herself. He looks at her, eyes wide, and Rey can feel herself warm even further under his gaze, more than she could have thought possible. 

Watching her intently, he traces from her hip to her center, fingers dipping between her thighs. She tilts her hips towards him and he takes the invitation, spreading her folds and running her fingers between them. She gasps sharply and reaches down to adjust his touch, directing him to the most sensitive points. He focuses his attentions there and her gasps grow sharper. She rocks herself against him, increasing the friction and the warmth burning her and reaches up to cup her breasts. She tosses her head back, feeling her hair stick to her skin, but it’s a small distraction compared to the building pleasure smoldering through her. Kylo continues his ministrations and slips more fingers down to where her wetness is spreading. She breaks over him, shoving a hand in her mouth to quiet the sounds she makes. 

She refocuses on him as he continues to explore her, gently pressing against her. She lifts her hips slightly to make room for his fingers. He slips one into her and she groans and falls forward. She takes a hold of his wrist and pumps his hand into her, enjoying the thickness of his finger, yet still craving more. He presses another into her and she rides him, rubbing her hand against the sensitive spot he found earlier, until she nearly reaches her peak again. With effort, she stills herself and slides back down to his hips. He gives a strangled gasp as he settles between her folds. 

She raises herself onto her knees and grasps his length, pressing it against her entrance. His hands fly to her hips, holding her steady as she slowly lowers herself onto him. Her breath hisses out slowly as she takes him in, feeling the pressure of him filling her stronger than the fingerprints forming on her hips. She finally settles against him and they both exhale sharply. She leans forward to kiss him and he sits up as much as he can to meet her. Their mouths collide, clumsy in the presence of so many overwhelming sensations. 

She balances her hands on his broad chest as she begins to roll her hips. She chokes on a gasp as she slides along his length, the give and take startling them both. He watches her with his mouth hanging open, eyes glazed, letting her set the pace. Her mouth hangs open as well as she pants for breath, nails digging into his chest as she struggles to focus. Their pleasure rises faster and sharper, spurring them on faster than they know how to react. She was already close to the edge, but he is rapidly nearing as well. She clenches around him and he lets go with a strangled shout, and she falls over with him. 

They rest like this for a while, lacking the energy or desire to move. The sweat they’ve built up cools on their skin and Rey shivers. Kylo pulls her closer, wrapping her even more firmly in his arms. Her head rests on his chest and he cranes his neck so that he can nestle his nose in her hair. She tilts her head up to give him a slow kiss, their lips sliding apart as they relax. 

They fall asleep, curled up in each other, and nearly wake up too late. Kylo wakes first and jolts to full alertness immediately when he realizes the time. On his chest, Rey is startled awake as well, and shoves herself to her elbows. He grunts at the sharp pressure and she winces guiltily, rubbing the offended spots soothingly before sitting up.

“Need to leave,” she mumbles, and he nods. 

With a regretful sigh, she slides off of him. He watches as she stretches and makes faces at the unusual aches in her body. He sits up and reaches down to yank his pants back into position around his waist, then picks up her tangled clothing from the floor and offers it to her. 

“Thanks,” she says, darting in for a quick kiss. 

She slips into her pants as he shakes out her shirt. He helps her into it, running his hands down her sides as it covers her. He ducks his head and presses it against hers. Their breaths mingle as they take the moment, clinging to it even as morning rises over the palace. 

Finally, they pull away, hands lingering on each other. 

“Tonight?” he says softly.

“Tonight,” she agrees, and they meet for one last kiss before parting at the door. 

-

It’s much harder to fall asleep alone in the hay and blankets of her stall than it was on a stone floor with Kylo. She eventually drifts off nearly halfway through the day after spending most of the morning recounting every detail of the night before, and then the nights before that for good measure. She barely pays attention to Poe and Finn, which doesn’t seem to matter as they are lost in each other anyway. She nearly runs through the hallways to the main hall where Kylo waits for her just as eagerly.

-

Seeing Rey come through the door is like seeing a dream come to life. Kylo went through the day in a half-daze, even more distracted than he’s been since Rey arrived at the palace. Every night spent with her makes it seem more and more unlikely that she’s real, that a strange woman from the forests appeared in the palace and spends her nights talking to him and touching him. But she’s there, flying through the door like she rushed to be there with him. He catches her in an embrace and in a kiss. He laughs against her lips, unable to contain the emotion surging within him. 

He pulls back, resisting her tug at his neck to pull him back down. 

“Come back to my room for the night?” he offers.

She glances behind her to the nightingale, but then turns back to him and smiles. “Yes.”

They walk silently through the halls, with Rey following Kylo’s lead. They enter his room, and he closes the door soundlessly as she looks around. He tugs her over to the bed and sits, and she stands over him. She pulls on his hair to tilt his head back as she leans down to kiss him. He slides his hands under her clothes and she moans.

He pulls back with a gasp. “The emperor,” he says in a near-silent whisper. 

She frowns, hands still pulling at his hair.

“His rooms are next door,” he says.

Her eyes widen and she nods her understanding. His hands resume their movements under her clothes and they begin the process of undressing each other with the soft slide of fabric as their only sounds.

They wake just before they have to part in the morning, early enough to exchange lazy kisses and drowsy caresses before dressing. It’s even harder this morning, with the bed drawing them back in as they attempt to extract themselves from each other. They finally disentangle themselves and Rey slips through his door no later than she should. Kylo allows himself a moment after she leaves to regret her loss before donning his mask. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All comments are deeply appreciated (I would _love_ to know what you think). As always, thanks to the [Reylo Fanfiction Anthology](https://reylofanfictionanthology.tumblr.com/), and you can find me on [tumblr](http://thewayofthetrashcompactor.tumblr.com/)!


	5. Too happy in thine happiness

Kylo goes about his duties feeling strangely buoyant. He has something to look forward to, and it’s such a wholly unique experience that he doesn’t know how to respond. He is grateful for his mask more than ever. 

He counts down the hours until he can see Rey again after she leaves his bed, and his count is drawing to an end as he stands next to Snoke’s throne. 

“...and while the rumors of your majesty’s poor health that led to some difficulties in the Hosnian region have been firmly quashed-” Hux pauses “-with some help from Lord Ren,” he adds, glaring at Kylo, then continues, “there still remain some isolated reports of incidents that would seem to indicate disrespect for your gracious majesty’s rule, though we have as of yet been unable to identify a specific source that would support such insolence.” Hux finally concludes his report, and Kylo looks to Snoke. The emperor’s mouth is drawn into a thin line, and Kylo smirks.

“You mean to tell me,” Snoke begins, leaning forward, his fingers clenched around the arms of his throne. Hux flinches almost imperceptibly. “That there remain rebels in my empire, and you are incapable of finding them?”

Hux takes a fraction of a second too long to reply. “We have every expectation of doing so with all possible speed,” he says.

Snoke leans slowly back. “See that you do,” he orders, radiating menace. The consequences if Hux fails are clearly implied. Snoke looks away from Hux and addresses Kylo. “You will remain,” he intones, then turns back to Hux. “Go.”

Hux is caught off guard but gives a low bow and leaves, tossing a final glare at Kylo over his shoulder. 

The room is silent and Kylo remains still, anticipating orders for a mission, likely some target that the emperor doesn’t want to Hux to know of until after the person’s death, as a punishment for his incompetence. He’s ready as always to serve the emperor, though he’s more reluctant to leave than he usually would be.

The silence drags on. At length, the emperor speaks. “You have been hiding her from me.”

Kylo stops breathing. The silence echoes.

Snoke’s eyes bore into his through the mask. “She came with the nightingale. I do not know why you did not bring her to me then. I had thought better of you, Kylo Ren.”

Kylo swallows hard, tasting blood and bile as he bites his tongue. 

“You will bring her before me tomorrow.”

Kylo bows, knowing no response is necessary. 

“Go,” he says, and Kylo leaves.

 

He storms through the halls to his room and slams the door behind him. He leans back against the wood and clenches his hands into fists.

He doesn’t fully know why he hadn’t told the emperor about Rey. Snoke’s right, he does know better, knows far better than to keep things from him. He told himself at first that he was doing this for the emperor, that by keeping Rey a secret he was ensuring she would stay and take care of the nightingale, the emperor’s prize. And then he started to forget about Snoke when they were together, started to think of that time as something for himself, for them, and that’s far more unpardonable than his mistake of not telling Snoke in the first place.

An image floats through his mind of Rey wrapped in his arms, smiling up at him. He can almost feel her against him, her arms around him. _This isn’t his_ , he thinks fiercely, briefly. 

_He’s the emperor_ , a voice says. _He already knows._

Nausea floods violently through him. His sword is out almost before he can think, and he slashes into his bed. His anger consumes him as he takes the furniture apart with his weapon. The blankets and mattress are shredded into pieces while the wood frame remains in one piece, though deeply gouged. 

He finally stands back, panting. The remnants of his bed settle around him. With a last flare of fury, he gives the frame a vicious kick, and it collapses. As his mind clears, he has a brief moment of regret. He can’t bring Rey back to a dismantled room. He can demand new furniture; it will be far from the first time he’s done so, but then he remembers what he will have to tell Rey when he sees her. 

He walks to the nearest wall and slides down to the floor. He begins planning what he can say to her, but nothing sounds right. She’s being given the chance to prove herself before the emperor, an opportunity others would kill for. And yet, he feels unaccountably guilty when he pictures bringing her before Snoke. He doesn’t want to inspect that reaction too closely.

-

Kylo doesn’t quite meet her eyes as he walks toward her, and Rey’s brow creases slightly. She reaches out for him, pulling him towards her and looking up at him. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

He pauses. “Nothing,” he says. He holds her hand in his and traces the lines of her fingers.

She raises her eyebrows. “Nothing?”

His jaw tightens and his fingers clench around hers. “Snoke knows you’re here. You’re to see him tomorrow.”

Rey pulls her hand away. “How long has he known?” 

Kylo’s mouth twists. “As long as you’ve been here, I’m sure.”

She swallows. “Tomorrow?” she says tightly.

“Tomorrow,” he confirms. He makes a motion as if to grab her hand, but lets his own fall back to his side.

-

Rey is restless the next day, unable to pin down exactly what she expects from her summons. She arrives outside the main hall before the time she arranged with Kylo. He appears not long after, still early. They stand together for a moment. Rey reaches for his hand and he willingly concedes it, taking her other one as well. She leans in and he meets her, pressing their foreheads together. She wants to tear his mask from his face and hold his cheek in her hand, but she accepts even the minimal contact. Kylo leans away first, squeezing her hands before dropping them. She nods and squares her shoulders. His expression is lost under the mask as he looks at her before turning to the door. He shoves it open and she follows him. 

Snoke is the only one in the room; even Hux has been sent away. Their footsteps ring out as they approach the throne. Kylo bows and Rey awkwardly copies him. They stand and Snoke looks Rey over thoroughly. She wants to squirm under the touch of his gaze. 

“You made the nightingale.” It’s not a question, but she nods. He continues: “It may have been good enough for the wilderness, but the seat of the Empire has higher standards. Kylo Ren will be in charge of providing you with what you require. You will be supplied with jewels and gold and expected to use them. I expect to see a bird fit for the palace soon. Dismissed.”

Kylo bows again and Rey stiffly does the same, rage trembling through her body. 

They leave the room. “I’ll see you tonight,” she mutters, before storming off to the stables. He nods, an expressionless mask. 

Finn is waiting for her when she returns. He stands up as she enters.

“Where’ve you been?” he asks, worry heavy in his voice.

“Snoke knows I’m here,” she says darkly, throwing herself to the floor.

Finn collapses next to her. “Oh,” he says weakly. “But you’re still here?”

“Yes,” she says. Then, with disgust, “He wants me to change the nightingale, to ‘improve’ it for the palace.”

Finn pauses. “Is that so bad?” he asks quietly. “When you weren’t here, I thought-”

Rey sits closer to him, their sides pressed together. “I guess not,” she says softly. “But it’s not right. To just take it, replace so much of it, like it’s nothing, like it’ll still be the same - It’s not right.” She shivers, her skin crawling, and leans more heavily against Finn. “Where’s Poe?” she asks, looking around.

He swallows. “I’m not sure.” She pulls her arm free and wraps it around him. “What if-” he starts, then falters. He swallows again. “What if we run away?”

She pulls back to look at him, eyes wide. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you, me, Poe, sneaking out of here one night and never coming back.” He looks at her, gauging her reaction.

She never intended to stay forever when she came to the city, so the suggestion of leaving shouldn’t come as such a surprise. But the hooks that have settled into her since she arrived pull at her, reminding her of her attachments to more than the nightingale. Still, the more she thinks about Finn’s suggestion, the more appeal it has. Her thoughts flash to Kylo. Leaving him behind seems impossible, and she briefly entertains the fantasy that she could convince him to come with them, ignoring the nagging undercurrent that tells her he’d never agree.

“Why not?” she says, and Finn’s face lights up.

“We’d have to wait a few weeks,” he says eagerly. “To build up supplies. But we can’t wait too long.”

She nods. “The further from winter we can leave the better. The worst thing would to be caught unprepared then. Would we be able to take any of the horses?”

Finn shakes his head. “There’s only one gate in and out, and there’s no way we could get through there. We’ll have to go the same way you did.” He smiles and nudges her arm, then laughs. “That’ll be the worst part, getting Poe to leave some of them.”

“Getting me to leave some of what?” Poe says, rounding the doorway with a grin. 

Finn starts to get to his feet, but Poe flops down next to him instead and Finn leans over to kiss him, clearly relieved by his return. Poe reciprocates, using a hand on Finn’s neck to pull himself up. They finally part with a sigh. 

“So what were you plotting?” Poe asks, propping himself up on an elbow. 

“We’re leaving,” Finn tells him.

Poe slowly sits up. “When you say leaving, I assume you don’t mean the stables.”

Finn shakes his head. “No, the palace.”

Poe lets out a slow and shaky breath. Finn’s expression falls from excitement to worry. “There’s something I should tell you,” Poe begins. He huffs out a breath. “I should have told you a while ago, honestly.” He looks at Finn. “I’m with the Resistance.” Finn’s eyes widen and he slowly sits back against the wall.

Rey looks between them. “The Resistance?” she asks.

Poe glances at her. “It’s a group that works against the Empire,” he says, then looks back at Finn. “I’m not sure how much of this you know-” Finn shrugs and Poe continues. “The Empire wasn’t always the Empire,” he tells Rey. “At least, not like it is now. Snoke likes to make it seem like he’s been in power forever and always will be, but it wasn’t that long ago that the Skywalker family ruled. General Leia was Empress when Snoke took over; she took the throne after her brother declined it, after the rumors he killed their father. No one blamed him, but he swears he didn’t, still says that old bastard wasn’t all evil-”

He shakes his head. “Anyway. Snoke. He was some mid-level noble under Leia, with more power than he should have had. He built up supporters behind her back while she was trying to fight other problems, clean up after her father, but he found people who wanted to go back to the old ways. I didn’t know much of the details then; I was barely a teenager when he led his attack, but I remember that night.” He sucks in a breath and tilts his head back. 

“It was just before dawn when it started, still dark out. My mother was part of the guard; she was called to help as soon as they realized what was happening, but it was too late by then. Half the palace was on fire and they killed most of the guard in their beds. My mother made it to the empress, was trying to get her out, but they were caught. Leia made it out with a couple others, but my mother was killed. My father and I were lucky, most of the families around us escaped; the living areas weren’t a target, but the royal family was one of the first attacked. Leia’s husband and son were killed, and Snoke took over.” 

Poe closes his eyes before he continues, and Rey reaches out to him. He covers her hand gratefully. “So Leia took what was left of her court, found them a place to live where Snoke wouldn’t find them, and created the Resistance. We take in whoever we can, anyone who’s hiding from Snoke, and try to find a way to kill the bastard and fix the Empire.”

Rey doesn’t know what to ask first. She opens and closes her mouth several times before she can form words. “So why are you here?” she asks.

Poe shrugs. “Spying. We needed someone on the inside to get information out.”

“That explains the gossip,” she jokes weakly, glancing at Finn, expecting him to smile. She’s unprepared for the blank look on his face. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks quietly. 

Poe flinches. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I know I should have, but there never seemed to be a good moment to break the news that I’ve been working for a rebel organization all this time”

Silence falls between them. Rey shifts awkwardly, then stands. “I should go,” she says. Finn nods and stands as well. She looks down at Poe. “See you tomorrow?” she asks. 

He nods. “Tomorrow.” He stands and reaches for Finn’s hand. “I am sorry.” 

Finn swallows. “I understand,” he says, glancing away, and leaves. 

Rey grips Poe’s shoulder and smiles, then follows. 

Kylo is waiting for her outside the hall when she arrives. “Come with me,” he says excitedly, leading her away without any explanation. She recognizes the halls he takes her down as the same direction as his bedroom, and she assumes that’s where he’s taking her until he stops at another door. “This is for you,” he says, pushing the door open. 

She gives him a skeptical look and walks into a small room. The first thing she notices is the nightingale, seated on a table on the edge of the room. At first she thinks the chains are gone, but then notices a set of heavy weights sitting on the table next to the bird, attached to its legs. Several small bowls sit on the table as well, and when she approaches she can see the precious jewels and metals in each one, including one filled with what looks to be golden feathers. A bed is set along the opposite side of the room, and she realizes that this is meant to be hers for the day and night. 

She sits in the chair next to the table and finds her tools next to the nightingale. Kylo approaches her from behind. 

“Do you like it?” he asks. “I can get you anything you need, all you have to do is ask.”

She nods and digs her hand into a pile of tiny sky-bright gems, letting them sift through her fingers. “What does Snoke expect?” she asks lowly.

Kylo shrugs, seating himself to her side. “The nightingale is already perfect,” he says, looking her in the eyes. “I think he just wants it to look it as well.” She snorts. “What?” he asks, and she shakes her head.

“Nothing.” She restlessly sifts through another pile of gems. Her head feels overstuffed. “I don’t think I can start tonight.”

Kylo’s brows furrow. “Why not?”

She looks up to glare at him. “Because I’m not ready.”

“Fine,” he says stiffly. “I can come back tomorrow.”

She returns to fiddling with the gems and hears the door close heavily behind her. She turns and looks at the bed, considering lying down. It’s comfortable enough, though she thinks she would have appreciated her nest tonight. 

She spends most of the day sorting out her thoughts, leaving the room only for a brief trip to the stables. The conversation between her friends is stilted, but they still keep close to each other, even if they are quieter than usual.

By the time Kylo arrives in her room, Rey has had time to consider what she’s learned, and her irritation has relented in favor of curiosity. She idly plays with the jewels as Kylo sits. 

“Have you always worked for Snoke?” she asks. He blinks, clearly not expecting the question. 

“Yes,” he answers. “All my life.”

“What about the empress before Snoke? Did you work for her?” she presses.

He scowls. “No,” he says shortly. “Why are you asking?”

She shrugs. “Curious.”

He eyes her suspiciously before firing back with his own question. “What about you? Did you always live in the forest?”

“Near enough. I don’t remember living anywhere else.”

“Why there?” he asks, tilting his head.

She drops her gaze. “It was where my parents left me. I guess we must have lived somewhere near the forest. Everything was burning and someone was chasing us and they told me to hide there, said they’d come back for me. I guess it doesn’t matter if they do now.”

He frowns. “They’re not coming back,” he says eventually.

Her head jerks up. “They are. They would have,” she snaps.

“They’re dead,” he says, as if it should be obvious.

“They’re not,” she hisses.

He looks taken aback by her anger. “They were probably killed by soldiers,” he says, as if hearing this will make her feel better. “Yours was probably one of the villages eliminated when Snoke took the throne.”

She glares at him. “How the hell would you know that?”

“Several villages were,” he says. “Most from the edges, and there was one near Jakku. Not everyone believed in the Emperor. Those who threatened the Empire were killed. Some towns had to be destroyed for the Empire to flourish. It’s the same as pruning a tree.”

“How can you say that?” she demands. “How can you act like the emperor killing whole villages, killing my parents, is something that should be accepted?” She glances away and takes several shallow breaths, then glares at him again. “You couldn’t possibly feel the same if he had done that to your family.”

“He did,” Kylo says, frowning.

Rey’s mouth falls open. “What?”

“Snoke killed my parents,” he says, as if this shouldn’t be a cause for concern. “Well, not personally. He might have, but I doubt it. His soldiers did.”

Bile rises at the back of Rey’s throat. “How can you work for him? _He killed your parents_. How can you do that?”

He shrugs, uncomfortable with her intensity over something he must have accepted years ago. “It’s the way it is. Their rule was weak, Snoke took over and killed them. The same thing happened before they took over, when they killed my grandfather.”

Rey’s eyes widen. “Your grandfather?”

He nods. “He was the most powerful ruler the Empire had seen, until Snoke. My uncle wanted his throne, so he killed him. Or my mother convinced him to. Either way, the Empire was so furious with his murder of such a strong emperor that he was forced to let the crown pass him by, and my mother became empress. And then Snoke killed her. And if Snoke was weaker, someday someone could kill him, but he’s proven for years that he’s too powerful to be overthrown.”

Rey leans back in her chair. Her emotions battle each other, and she struggles for words. She can’t understand thinking the way he does. He was part of the royal family, which is overwhelming enough, but then to believe so fully in the man who killed them? She tries to picture a younger Kylo, a prince accepting the death of his royal parents, but it’s incomprehensible on too many counts. She swallows and it burns. “How old were you?” she asks, struggling to keep her voice even, matching his. 

“When Snoke became emperor?” She nods. “Eleven.”

“And you’ve been his knight since then?”

He snorts. “I wasn’t a knight then. I trained for years as his apprentice before he promoted me. I trained with him and his soldiers before too, but not enough. My uncle had tried to train me back then.” His mouth thins. “Snoke spent a lot of time correcting his influence.”

Rey thinks back to the scars she knows cover his body, warping his torso into twisted topographies. Her anger begins to come back to her. “So that’s it?”

“That’s what?” he asks, confused again.

“You just - listen to him? Obey anything he tells you? Kill whoever he orders?”

“He’s the emperor,” he says. “I owe him my life and my service.”

“For killing your parents?”

“He saved me!” he shouts, and she draws back. “He should have killed me with the rest of them,” he continues, leaning over her. “They were weak, and I was too. But he saw what I could be, even then, and he made me strong, made me his knight. They were weak and he saved me from them,” he repeats fervently, belief burning in his eyes. 

She gapes at him. “And that’s all?” she says, finding her voice again. He scowls at her. “You just work for Snoke until he dies?” she snarls.

“Snoke will not die,” he says fiercely. “He will finish what my grandfather started and he will rule the Empire _forever_.”

She gapes at him. “That’s impossible.”

His eyes are still burning as he tells her, “It’s not. You’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All comments are deeply appreciated! As always, thanks to the [Reylo Fanfiction Anthology](https://reylofanfictionanthology.tumblr.com/), and you can find me on [tumblr](http://thewayofthetrashcompactor.tumblr.com/)


	6. Drink, and leave the world unseen

It isn’t until she’s sitting with Poe and Finn again that another of Kylo’s inconsistencies occurs to her. 

“You said the Empress lived,” she says to Poe, who startles at the seemingly random statement. He straightens and focuses on her. 

“She did,” he says. 

Rey hesitates. She’s suddenly understanding how Poe felt when he told Finn he was part of the Resistance. She hadn’t meant to keep her time with Kylo from them, but she hadn’t mentioned it when she was just getting to know them, and it hadn’t come up in a convenient way since. “I talked to Kylo Ren,” she says, trying to breeze past part of the conversation to her point.

Poe and Finn both sit up immediately. “Are you okay?” Finn says, grabbing her hand and looking at her arm as if bruises will suddenly appear there. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” she says. “I’ve been talking to him for a while, before Snoke summoned me.” They both gape at her. 

“ _How_?” Poe asks.

“ _Why_?” Finn says at the same time.

“He came in while I was working on the nightingale. He was curious, and we talked. Anyway,” she says, trying to ignore their stares, “I asked him last night about Snoke and he said the empress was killed when Snoke became emperor.”

Poe shakes his head, still with a dazed expression. “I’ve talked to her myself. I promise, she’s alive.”

Rey nods her head and bites her lip. Taking a deep breath, she plunges forward. “Poe, he said he was the empress’ son.”

His face drains of color. “What?”

“He said- I asked him about Snoke and the empress, after you told us about the Resistance. He said his uncle killed the old emperor, his grandfather, and then Snoke killed his parents after his mother became empress.”

Rey watches as Poe’s expression falls from confusion to horror. “No,” he whispers. “No, he can’t be.”

She pulls back. “I don’t think he was lying.”

“No, I don’t-” He looks ill. “It’s just- all this time-”

Rey’s stomach drops. She almost doesn’t say anything, but this isn’t the reaction she expected. “Isn’t that good?” she asks tentatively. “That her son is alive?”

Poe continues shaking his head, and Finn answers for him. “You don’t understand,” he says, his face pale. “Rey, there aren’t many things people in the Empire fear more than Kylo Ren. He does anything for the emperor, executes any order. That mask is the last thing many people ever see. Snoke has other knights, but not like him.”

Rey feels nauseous. She looks away from Finn, glances down at her hands. “Snoke’s done things to him,” she says quietly. “I’ve seen the marks.”

Poe shoves himself to his feet and paces back and forth, running his hands through his hair in agitation. “That bastard did spend too much time around him,” he spits. “I thought, afterwards, it was just to get closer to the family to kill them. None of us ever thought he’d- That Ben was-” he breaks off. “Kriff, I don’t even know what.”

“You’re sure?” Finn asks Rey. “I don’t doubt you, but Kylo Ren-”

“I’m sure,” she says. “He wasn’t saying it to get anything or whatever. It was just- how it was.”

Silence falls over them with a sickening weight. Rey takes up pieces of straw and tears them apart, running Finn’s words over in her head. 

“I played with him,” Poe says, and Rey and Finn both turn to look at him. “When we were little. My mother was part of the royal family’s personal guard, so we spent a lot of time together, even when he kept being taken to training at all hours. We were best friends, as much as kids can be.” He gives a harsh laugh and Rey flinches. “Kriff, what am I going to tell Leia?”

-

Kylo is still wearing his mask when he enters her room, and she can’t stop herself from flinching. He notices and removes the mask as soon as the door closes behind him. He doesn’t meet her eyes as he places it on the table, facing it towards the wall. 

“Any progress?” he asks, gesturing towards the nightingale, which looks the same as it did before it came to this room. 

“No,” she snaps, not looking at him.

He lays a hand on her shoulder. “I-” She shoves him off, still staring at the nightingale. He huffs and throws himself into his chair. 

She doesn’t know how to respond to him now. He was something more than a friend, someone she shared too much with to forget. To reconcile that with the face of terror of the Empire, the lost son of the empress with no regret for his parents’ supposed deaths - she’s lost. She’s angry, she knows that much. But whether the anger is with herself or with him is another matter.

He sits with her in tense silence. Hours pass. Before dawn, he stands.

“The emperor looks forward to seeing your results,” he tells her as he leaves, fitting the mask to his face.

-

“We should kill the emperor,” Rey says.

Poe looks up at her from where he’s sprawled across the floor in front of her and Finn, who are sitting against the wall. “That’s the idea,” he drawls.

“No, I mean soon,” Rey says.

Poe raises himself onto an elbow. “Do you have an idea?” he asks curiously.

Rey nods. “He’s having me work on the nightingale. I can get whatever I ask for. Whenever it’s done, it’s going to play for the whole court, right next to Snoke. We use the nightingale to kill him.”

Poe tilts his head, considering. “How?”

Rey slumps back against the wall. “I’m not sure,” she admits. “But there’s got to be a way. There’s nothing that will get closer to him that we can get our hands on.”

“That’s true,” Poe says slowly. He sits up fully and grins. “We need a plan.”

-

Rey gently pulls a feather from the nightingale and sets it aside, then picks up another of the golden feathers she’s been provided. She takes up her tools and begins forming the feather into the shape she needs. She cuts the edges and shaves the metal down, trying to make it as light as she can. Even with her work, she’s not sure the nightingale will be able to fly again once she’s done. She works the new feather into place and the nightingale looks up at her, cocking its head to the side. A sharp pang lances through her chest. She tosses the feather and tools to the desk and buries her head in her hands.

“Rey?” Kylo asks. He reaches out but withdraws his hand before it touches her. 

She swallows and shakes her head. Tears burn at her eyes and she presses the heels of her hands into them. She wipes her hand across her face and raises her head to look at him. 

“Why do you do it?” she demands. “Why do you follow Snoke?”

Kylo’s face goes blank with shock. “What do you mean?”

She laughs bitterly. “What do I mean? Kriff, Kylo, why? You kill people for your parents’ murderer. Why?”

“My parents should have been able to stop him,” he growls. “He saved me from them, let me live when I should have died with them.”

“They were your parents,” Rey hisses. “And your mother was empress.”

“She was weak,” he spits.

“How would you know?”

“She let herself lose her throne! She let her court be killed! Her weakness would have killed me too, if it weren’t for the emperor.”

“Snoke killed them in their sleep! How is that strength?”

“He took his throne by force, just like every emperor has before him, like my mother and her brother did to their own father. This is nothing new, Rey, only the strong survive,” he snarls.

“No, the only thing new is your blind obedience to some pathetic coward!” she says venomously.

“He is the emperor!” he screams.

“Because you let him be!” He gapes at her, face contorted in fury. She pushes on, hate filling her words. “Snoke is an old, weak man, Kylo. You don’t have to follow him. Kriff, you could probably gather some of the guard and do to him the same thing he did to your family.”

He shoves himself to his feet, knocking his chair back with a bang, and strides across the room. He turns to face her. “You-you can’t-” He points a finger at her accusingly then runs his hand through his hair, pulling several strands out with it. “People have been killed for less,” he growls. “I’ve - I can’t-” He turns back around then spins towards her again. He covers the room in three steps and leans over her. “You don’t disobey the emperor,” he hisses. He holds onto her chair and the wood creaks in his grip.

She glares up at him. “Why not?” 

“You don’t!” he shouts. 

She stands, her chair clattering to the floor as well. “Maybe _you_ don’t,” she tells him viciously. He doesn’t retreat and their faces are only a breath apart. She feels the heat from his flushed skin. 

He snarls and spins away, barely stopping to grab his mask as he storms from the room. The door slams behind him and Rey slumps to the floor.

-

“It could attack him?” Finn suggests.

“How?” Rey asks next to him.

“Talons?”

She shakes her head. “Legs are chained.”

“Sharpened wings?”

“He’d have to get close and stay close for it to do enough damage.”

“What if the points were poisoned?” Poe asks.

Rey frowns. “I don’t think so. The stand is next to the throne, but not that close. We couldn’t guarantee he’d get within its wingspan.”

Finn leans his head on Rey’s shoulder and sighs.

-

She doesn’t expect to see him the next night. When the door of her room opens, she jumps, accidentally slicing through the feather she was working on. She grits her teeth and tosses it to the side with the scrap before turning in her seat. Kylo stands in the middle of the room with his mask in his hands.

“There are things you don’t understand,” he says, walking towards her.

“You’re damn right there are,” she mutters, fanning her tools across the table to find the one she needs. 

Kylo picks up one from under the shadow of a bowl and hands it to her. She accepts it wordlessly, only vaguely surprised that it’s the right one. 

“You need a teacher,” he says, trying to catch her eye. “The emperor will help.”

She swallows and it’s like tasting poison. 

-

“Maybe if you covered it in a poison? Something that could be absorbed through the skin?” Poe says from the floor.

“He doesn’t handle it though,” Rey sighs. “We’d be more likely to kill some guard than the emperor.”

“A release of some kind of poison? Into the air?” Finn says.

“Still more likely to kill someone other than him.” Rey firmly doesn’t think of Kylo.

-

Rey hears the door open, but keeps her focus on the thread of gold she holds with her tools. Kylo’s footsteps across the room are slow, heavier than she’s used to. She watches out of the corner of her eye as he sits. His face is still hidden by his mask but his movements are stiff and tight. Even as he reaches up to remove the mask, he only moves the absolute minimum to accomplish the task. The mask lands heavily on the table and his hands land next to it. His face is blank and she shivers as a chill steals into her chest. 

She sets the gold down and turns to him, but he looks past her. “What’s wrong?” she asks. He gives no indication he’s heard her. 

She extends a hand to touch his cheek. She barely feels the heat of his skin before he turns his head away, hissing through his teeth as the movement echoes through his body. Her mouth presses in a thin line as he stares at the wall.

He sits motionless, and she thinks he’ll continue to ignore her. She watches him. Finally, she sees a muscle twitch in his jaw. “The emperor noticed my recent distraction,” he says tonelessly. “He helped me to correct it. He was right.” He glances up at her. “I have lost focus.”

Rey wants to cry, to scream at him, to drag him to her by his hair and kiss him until they can’t breathe, to hunt down Snoke herself and cut out his heart. Instead, she sits down and picks up the tools she dropped. She has to concentrate to keep herself from being sick on the precious jewels in front of her.

-

The only noise in the stable is the crunch of hay as Poe breaks pieces apart. Finn has given in and flopped on the floor next to him, their limbs overlapping. Rey sits against the wall, toes nudging their bodies. 

She keeps seeing flashes of Kylo in her mind’s eye, wincing as he sits down, pulling away from her touch, walking like each step drives daggers into him. She shakes her head, trying in vain to clear her thoughts. For the first time in months, she dreams of her home in the forest. She recreates the scene down to the last leaf, imagining herself lying on grass, watching the wind dance through the trees, listening to the nightingale sing overhead. She can almost hear the music, free and wild, carried on the breeze. It sends a physical pain through her and she gasps, feeling like she’s been stabbed. 

Her eyes open and she rubs at her chest, trying to ease the ache. Her hand falls away as a thought strikes her. 

“We use the song,” she says.

“Hmm?” Poe lifts his head to look at her.

“The nightingale’s song. We use it to kill Snoke.”

Finn sits up as well, brow furrowed. “How?”

“It can already entrance people, you’ve seen that,” she says, and Finn nods thoughtfully. “I need to make it stronger, more powerful, make it so that he needs it.” She smiles coldly. “And then we take it away. The bird breaks, we make sure that it does somehow, and the music disappears once he can’t do without it.”

Poe looks at her intently. “Can you do that?”

She takes a breath. “I can try.”

-

Kylo returns every night, even though he doesn’t speak. It reminds her of her first weeks at the palace, but the silence now is choked with memories. Rey plans her work, doing her best to work with forces she doesn’t entirely understand. She requests several more parts from Kylo, items more functional than the decorative pieces she’s been provided. She has to force herself to be calm before she opens the bird and creates a weapon from it. She does painstaking surgery she hasn’t attempted since first creating the nightingale, and the nights that it lays open on her work table are the worst of all. 

She pours her longing for her home into every moment of her work, pushing aside distracting thoughts of Poe and Finn and nights spent in the palace. She searches herself for the heartsore ache she wants to evoke, and feels an unpleasant jolt when Kylo appears at the edges of her mind. She gasps and shoves him away, firmly not looking at the man beside her, and thinks instead of spring days and summer evenings, soft grass and cool rains and trees that swayed like a heartbeat. She remembers only the best of those times, the parts that shine like distant stars when all she sees for herself at the palace is scattered in pieces at her hands. She teaches the nightingale notes of painful beauty and when she finally closes it again, it knows a new sort of song. 

Reluctantly, she coaxes it to sing, and what comes forth is more powerful than she expected. A second song winds underneath the first, almost unnoticeable, subtly building it higher. She looks over at Kylo and sees his face blank with wonder. Her chest feels tight and she quickly quiets the nightingale.

Kylo shakes his head. “That was…” he trails off.

Rey gives him a pained smile. “It’s ready,” she says.

-

Rey looks out over the faces crowding the hall and considers that any one of them could succumb to the snare she’s set for Snoke. As the oldest and likely weakest one there, he should fall the most strongly to the nightingale, but she has no way of ensuring that. She sees Snoke rise from his throne out of the corner of her eye but she continues looking over the crowd.

“A jewel of the Empire has been made into a jewel worthy of the court of the emperor,” he announces. Rey grits her teeth. Snoke sits down, nearly collapsing into the throne, and nods to Kylo.

Kylo turns to her, but she ignores him. He pauses, then turns to the nightingale and removes the silk covering himself. The nightingale blinks and spreads its wings, reflecting the light of the hall in the gold of its feathers. It breaks into song, and Rey watches as every one of the crowd before her becomes enraptured. She turns to Snoke and savage satisfaction fills her to see his wrinkled visage go slack with wonder. 

But next to Snoke stands Kylo, just as bewitched as his master, and her success takes on a bitter sting.

-

“Did it work?” Poe asks her eagerly as soon as she enters the stables. 

She nods, forcing a wide smile, and he whoops. Finn breaks into an ear-splitting grin. They both wrap her in a hug and she holds them tightly to her, easing the ache in her chest. 

When they finally break apart, Rey yawns, and she realizes how exhausted she is in the wake of the past days. 

“Get some sleep,” Poe says, clapping her on the back.

Finn gives Poe a brief kiss and her another hug before he leaves. Poe is ready to leave for his bed when she stops him.

“I can’t stay,” she says, meeting his eyes. “Can you get me out?”

His look turns immediately serious. “Of course,” he says. “What’s wrong?”

She looks away. “I can’t watch it break,” she says. “It feels like I’m killing it. It has to, I know that, but I can’t stay and watch it fall apart.”

He squeezes her shoulder. “I can send a message. We’ll get you to the Resistance before then.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, and buries her head in his chest. He holds on to her as her tears finally fall.

-

Since she’s now an honorary member of court rather than a fugitive, she has the honor of having the nightingale brought to her workshop rather than trying to work around the stand to fix it. Kylo is responsible for bringing it to her, and he sets it gently on the table before taking his usual chair.

She checks the bird over, grimacing as she finds signs of wear already. The modifications strain it badly, especially now that Snoke orders it to sing every night. Even with her caring for it, she’s not sure how long it will last. Once she leaves, it won’t take long at all for it to break.

“It’s beautiful,” Kylo says, and she jerks her head up to look at him. “I didn’t think you could make it more wonderful, but you have.”

“You can make anything beautiful if you cover it with enough gold,” she says.

He shakes his head. “It’s not just that. The song-” he searches for words and then sighs, a long gust. “It’s indescribable. It’s more than the music. I can hear things in it-” Words fail him again and he stares past her.

Her guilt empties her out.

-

“A week,” Poe says as she sits down next to him and Finn.

“A week?” she asks.

“To get you out,” he clarifies. “I’ll meet you here and we’ll take you over the wall to the west. Jessika will be waiting for you to take you to the Resistance.” He smiles. “The General’s looking forward to meeting you.”

She smiles weakly back. “You’re staying here?”

“Someone has to keep the Resistance informed,” he says with a lopsided smile. “We’ll be in the palace the moment Snoke’s gone.”

She turns to Finn. “You?”

He laces his fingers with Poe’s. “I’m staying,” he confirms.

She nods, tears threatening, and lunges forward and hugs them both. 

“We’ll meet up again after,” Poe says, wrapping his arm around her. 

“Once Snoke is dead,” Finn adds.

She nods and holds them tighter.

-

She fingers the weights attached to the nightingale’s legs. She forgets about them sometimes, but they’re always there, dragging it down. She looks over at Kylo, who’s idly watching her. He’s started talking again, telling her stories, as if he’s trying to recreate what they had before. Along with the stories come small touches. He reaches out to her instinctively, like he can’t help himself. He snatched his hand back the first time, but the next time he lingered a little longer. She knows she should stop him, she’s leaving him, if she doesn’t destroy him first, but she craves the contact too much to give it up.

“Can you take these off?” she says abruptly, holding the chains. 

Kylo jolts, then glances down uncertainly to where she knows the keys Snoke gave him to transport the nightingale are. 

“It’s not like it’s going to leave the room,” she says with annoyance.

He hesitates, then pulls the set of small keys from a hidden pocket. He gently nudges her to the side as he leans over the nightingale. She hovers next to him.

The bird blinks up at them as its legs are freed. It hesitantly takes a few steps around the table then flutters its wings. It repeats the motion, lifting itself a few inches, then it abruptly stops, falling back to the table in shock. It rights itself, then in a flurry of motion, it takes off, flying up to the ceiling and soaring around the room. It glides in a tight oval, trilling happily.

Rey laughs brightly as she watches. She feels Kylo’s gaze on her and looks up to meet his eyes. His face lights up like the sun, and he looks at her with such hope it’s nearly unbearable.

-

“Are you ready?” Poe asks her quietly.

She nods. “One more day,” she says tightly.

Finn wraps an arm around her. “We’ll see each other soon,” he promises.

-

Rey paces back and forth in her room, waiting for Kylo to arrive. No night past tonight exists for them, and she is determined to take everything of him she can with her. 

The night drags on and dread rises in her. The faint strains of birdsong float through her door and she frowns. She opens the door and crosses the hallway. The music is louder here, coming from the emperor’s chambers next door. He must have told Kylo to bring it to him instead of her for the night, which can only mean that her plan is working.

She knocks at Kylo’s door, and when no answer comes, she opens the door herself. Kylo sits on the bed inside, smiling vaguely at the world, eyes unfocused. His body is more relaxed than she’s ever seen him. The nightingale can be heard even more clearly in his room than in the hall, the sound travelling easily through the thin wall shared with Snoke’s room. 

Rey approaches him reluctantly, her guilt dragging at her. He doesn’t notice her until she stands in front of him, her knees brushing his. 

He looks up, smile widening when he sees her. “Can you hear it?” he asks eagerly. She nods, tears threatening. “It’s beautiful,” he sighs. His eyes focus for a moment and meet hers. “It sounds like you,” he says brightly, earnestly, and the tears streak down her cheeks.

She sits next to him, though she knows she should leave, and watches him. His face is barely recognizable in its laxness. Her vision blurs and she angrily wipes her eyes. 

She stands and leans over him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. He startles, then leans into her, even as she tries to pull away. She stands, ending the kiss and he blinks fuzzily. 

“Rey?” 

She shakes her head and brushes her lips against his one last time before fleeing from the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go! Thank you as always to the [Reylo Fanfiction Anthology](https://reylofanfictionanthology.tumblr.com/), and you can also find me on [tumblr](http://thewayofthetrashcompactor.tumblr.com/)! Let me know what you think, all comments are so deeply appreciated.


	7. And with thee fade away into the forest dim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one!

The days blur for Kylo, one the same as the next. The only constant is the music winding through each one, always present, even just as an echo in his mind when the nightingale is not singing. The bird is no longer a favor for the court. It is Snoke’s constant companion, by his side constantly, from long days in court to when he withdraws to his rooms at night. It plays at his command, as eager to be heard as all around are to hear it. Kylo falls asleep each night listening its song, pure and perfect, as it stirs a longing in him for something more. 

Even under the music, a vague thought nags at him, something he's forgetting, that never fully resolves. The music reminds him sometimes, but then it pulls him under, and he'll get to it the next day, or the next. It will still be there.

It's as he's lying in bed, he's not sure how many days later, that a sharp blow cuts through the haze. With a soft chime if mechanics, the song abruptly cuts off. A foreign silence settles.

“KYLO REN!” Snoke screams.

Kylo stumbles out of his room and runs to the emperor’s side. He falls to his knees. “Yes, your majesty.”

Snoke jabs his finger at the frozen figure of the nightingale on its golden stand. “Fix this at once,” he hisses.

Kylo rises, bows, and turns to the nightingale, withdrawing his keys. Holding the keys in his hand and reaching for the nightingale, it suddenly hits him. 

_Rey_. 

Rey, the girl from the forest, the one who had made the nightingale, who knows more of him than anyone alive, who he fought with, spent every moment he could with, who he hasn’t seen since a hazy memory of a kiss. 

He frees the nightingale with harsh movements and storms out of the room with it cupped in his hands. He bursts into Rey’s room and workshop and finds it empty. The bed is untouched, and all her tools are neatly tucked away. 

His hands clench around the nightingale, and only the bite of the metal against his hands stops him from crushing it. He sets it down on the table none too gently and leans over, palms pressed against the wood. He grits his teeth as he pries through the memories that swim through his hazy mind. The most recent ones are the hardest, barely more than vague impressions. All that’s clear is that she’s gone, plainly and deliberately, and that her nightingale is somehow at the heart of it. 

He growls and sweeps the table clear in one harsh movement. Jewels and golden feathers cascade to the floor in a rainbow of vivid color. He turns away and paces across the room, back and forth, barely a couple steps in each direction. His anger overflows the confined space. He spins out of his tight loop, grabs Rey’s chair, and slams it against the wall, the splinters falling to the floor join the gems. Fury racing through him, he strides from the room.

The captain of the guard is asleep when he pounds on her door, but she answers at attention. 

“Call out the whole guard. Search the palace for the girl called Rey.”

She blinks. “Rey, sir?”

“The girl who stood with the nightingale when it was presented to court,” he snarls.

She gives a stiff bow. “Yes, sir.”

-

Days later, repeated searches of the palace have yielded nothing. Kylo stands next to Snoke as he holds court, stiff with rage. He’s so preoccupied that the shouts don’t register at first. When he comes back to himself, the court is staring with horror at the throne. He whips around in time to see Snoke attempt to stand, then collapse to the floor.

Kylo freezes. His first instinct is to take care of the court, to take back the fear that has just been lost, but there are too many, and the emperor is still lying on the floor. He hesitates only a moment before rushing to his side, leaning over him desperately. His hopes of reinstating the emperor on his throne and regaining control are dashed immediately. Snoke’s pale eyes are unseeing and his body jerks with uncontrolled spasms. Behind him, Hux smoothly steps forward and addresses the crowd.

“The emperor is temporarily indisposed. I will conduct the remaining ceremonies in his stead.” The malice in his voice dares anyone to protest.

Hux steps over the emperor and settles himself in his throne. He gives Kylo a pointed look and Kylo nearly reaches out to drag him off the throne by his collar. The form of the emperor at his feet stops him. He knows Hux is much less interested in the emperor’s well-being than in protecting his own place at court. But the emperor still needs to be protected, so he gathers him into his arms and storms from the throne room.

He walks through the halls to the emperor’s rooms, all too aware of the fragile weight of him in his arms. He looks down at his emaciated body and is suddenly struck with the thought that he could let go, and the emperor would fall, likely to never get up again. He has to stop his arms from tightening, and the awareness that he could too easily crush him adds to the sickening dread that sweeps through him. It isn’t possible for the all-powerful emperor to be struck insensible and helpless, but he holds the frail proof, clutched to him. 

Anger rises up with the desperate fear, and he lets it fill him, taking over his panicked and treasonous thoughts with furious clarity. The emperor couldn’t have been brought to this point if something hadn’t happened to him, if someone hadn’t interfered. This was the fault of that _traitor_ who left, who abandoned him, and she would fix what she had done. 

-

The search begins in earnest that afternoon, not just for the traitor, but for anyone who could restore the nightingale and heal the emperor. The emperor remains unconscious for much of the days that follow, but demands the nightingale on every return to lucidity. Hux continues to rule in the emperor’s place, and specialists from across the empire are brought in the dead of night to the palace, with every attempt made to conceal the emperor’s weakness from the realm. Kylo takes up a new post, standing by the emperor’s bed instead of his throne, watching as mechanics and doctors and watchmakers and healers are brought through his room. They do not live long past their failures. 

Kylo’s anger simmers as he keeps his guard. His duty is to the emperor, but he cannot stand and watch as those around him fail him. He knows the girl, knows he can find her. He needs only the emperor’s permission to do so.

Snoke shifts in the bed, and Kylo stiffens. His eyes slowly open. “The nightingale,” he croaks. “Bring it to me.”

“It’s still broken, your majesty,” Kylo says. The room is empty at the moment except for them. “I know where to find someone to fix it, if your majesty will allow me to retrieve her-”

Snoke turns his head to face Kylo, the vagueness fading from his stare. “Kylo Ren,” he intones. 

Kylo bows. “Yes, your majesty.”

“So it has come to this,” he says venomously. “Even you will leave me.”

“No, your majesty, I only-”

“Was it Hux?” he snarls. “Did he promise you a place in his court if you left long enough for him to have me killed?”

“No-”

“Of all my court, I had thought you, at least, would remain loyal, after all I have done for you. I made you, Kylo Ren.”

“Yes, your majesty, I-”

“Is the guard so incompetent under your command that they cannot accomplish this themselves? Have you allowed my reign to fall to pieces so quickly at the slightest chance to abandon me?”

“No, your majesty,” Kylo says desperately. “I remain loyal, always, as does your guard.”

“Good.” The emperor’s eyes fall closed. “And the nightingale?”

“Will be fixed, your majesty.”

“See that it is.” His eyes open just enough to pierce into Kylo. “Do not fail me.”

“I won’t,” he promises fervently.

-

Rey fiddles with the straps of her saddle, staring sightlessly at the leather. Leia finally received word from Poe; the emperor hasn’t been seen for days, locked in his rooms with Kylo. The force of the Resistance surrounds around her, breath fogging in the early dawn air, prepared to ride on the castle. Hoofbeats approach her from behind, and she turns and sees Leia riding towards her. 

“General,” she says, nodding her head. 

“Rey,” she replies, dismounting. “I’m glad you’re joining us.”

“Of course,” she replies. “I started this, I should be there to finish it.”

Leia grips her shoulder and Rey looks up to meet her eyes. “I can’t thank you enough,” she says. “We never would have had this chance without you. We’re all in your debt.”

Rey smiles weakly. “I only did what had to be done, General.”

“You did more than that, Rey,” Leia tells her. 

Rey’s thoughts drift to Kylo, and what she still hasn’t told her, and she can’t find the words to respond. She nods, and Leia squeezes her shoulder before mounting her horse again and riding to the front of the group.

The gates of the city open as the general approaches, and Rey quickly mounts as Leia leads the Resistance from D’Qar. They ride quickly towards the palace, not wanting whoever still waits for them there to have any warning of their arrival.

The sun is high in the sky as they race through the capital, stopping only at the palace gates. The guards outside are quickly dispatched, and within minutes, the gates swing open from the inside. Poe and Finn stand on either side, triumphant, with several of the guard that Rey doesn’t recognize. Finn grins at her as she passes, and she gives him a quick smile back. The Resistance rides through the gates, dividing as planned. Poe and Finn join the group heading towards the barracks, and Rey hesitates before following Leia’s group to the throne room. She turns away at the last moment, following the hallways instead to Snoke’s rooms. She draws a deep breath before the door, then shoves it open.

Warm afternoon light streams through the thin coverings over the large windows and doors facing the gardens, but they remain closed, preventing any breath of fresh air from disturbing the suffocating thickness of the room. Kylo is kneeling on the floor by the emperor’s bed, surrounded by empty medicine bottles and rubbish, signs of the failed attempts to prolong the emperor’s life. His arms are cast over the sheets, just short of touching the emperor, head bowed. Her breath is knocked out of her upon seeing him again. As she breathes in again, she coughs, caught off guard by the overwhelming stench of death. The smell of decay clings to every surface, and the acrid tang of medicine cuts through the haze and burns at her nose.

Kylo’s head jerks up at the noise, and she draws back at the crazed look in his eyes. His helmet is cast on the floor with the rest of the debris. He stumbles to his feet, clumsily drawing his sword, the metal clanking awkwardly.

“No one can see the emperor,” he growls, advancing towards her. 

Her mouth hangs open, then she finds her voice. “Kylo, stop,” she says forcefully, refusing to back down. 

“Rey?” he says, expression clearing for a moment. Then he glares again, fiercer than before. “You.” He points at her with his sword. “You will heal him.”

She looks again at the bed, then back at Kylo. She slowly advances, almost certain she knows what she will find. She leans over the bed, close enough that her face almost touches Snoke’s, and she nearly gags. She pulls the blankets back from the emperor’s sunken chest, draped in black robes so stiff they barely bend at her touch. The movement of the sheets releases the smell of the body laying there, layers of sweat, urine, and decay. Kylo recoils and Rey quickly covers her nose with a sleeve but remains bent over the bed. Her hand grips Snoke’s neck, pressing between the folds of withered skin. Kylo crowds behind her, his breath on the back of her neck, his body burning. 

The body under her hands is completely still, life entirely gone from its veins. A vindictive thrill runs through her. She turns back to Kylo, stepping away from the bed. 

“What are you doing?” he growls, grabbing her wrist.

“You’re too late,” she tells him, smiling with savage satisfaction. “Your emperor is dead.”

-

Kylo’s fingers form a death grip on her wrist, clutching at her skin. His heart clenches and stops, the room blurs, and there isn’t enough air. He hunches over, the strain in his back the only thing keeping him upright, his legs disgustingly weak. He pulls Rey into himself, nails digging into her pulse. She is still in his hold. 

Slowly, the initial wave of panic pases and he pulls in several choked, gasping breaths. His gaze focuses and he looks down at the fragile limb in his clutches, twisting his hand roughly to see where his fingers press into her skin. 

“You,” he mutters.

His entire world is crumbling, the only guidance he’s known cold in the bed next to him, and somehow she is at the center of all of it. He abruptly drops her hand and takes a shaky step back. He runs his hand through his hair roughly, pulling harshly at the strands. 

Somewhere beneath the swirling rage that covers his confusion and exhaustion, those emotions too frightening to think about, signs of unacceptable weakness, there is a voice, clear and unaffected by the chaos filling him. It speaks matter-of-factly, telling him what he already knows. This could be over. He could walk away, leave the emperor, and there would be no repercussions, Snoke could not come after him - 

Every other sense he has rebels completely, clamping down on the thought before it can become real. It is ridiculous, unthinkable, he _knows_ better, has been taught better. Snoke is emperor, he would know, he would come. Anything else is impossible. 

Rey is still watching him. He can feel her gaze as tangibly as if she was holding his face in her hands. She takes a slow step towards him, and his eyes snap up to meet hers. She steps again, slow but sure, confident against him, as if she knows his thoughts better than he does. He feels like a wild animal being backed into a corner. His hand twitches on his sword, then stills, and she steps further into his space, coming to stand a breath away from him. She keeps his gaze and he’s held there, looking down at her, feeling like she’s the one looking down on him. She lifts her hand to his face, startling him. He’d had months of her touch, but this feels like the first time all over again. 

“You can let go, Kylo,” she says, and now the voice has a name, the voice trying to cut through the haze and the anger, fighting through the mess with a “ _what if?_ ”. He wants to shove her away, to tear the room down, rip apart every last scrap, to curl into a ball and shred his skin because it is all too much. He can’t-- 

He clenches his teeth so hard it feels like they’ll shatter and breathes heavily through his nose. He knows what he has to do, what he has been _taught_ , taught so many times, in so many ways. 

“No,” he grinds out, pulling away. Her face closes off and her hand tenses against his cheek as he does, claw-like. He almost expects her to mark him as it drops away.

His sword is still in his hand, and he points it at her again as he takes another step backwards. “This was always you.”

Somewhere in his head, he is silently screaming. It comes from the same place that had always gotten him in trouble when he was younger, like static in the background of his consciousness. It screams that there is no point, he is _dead_ , there is nothing to protect, there is no reason to fight her for this. 

Even in this state, he notices that she has changed her stance, and her weight has shifted forward. Her hands are still in front of her, but he knows that her staff will be in them almost immediately if she wants it to be. Her expression is weary and resigned. 

Kylo’s sword remains between them, shaking yet upright. The voice in his head grows louder: let it go, set it down, there’s nothing to fight for, nothing to fight her for. There is truth to it, he knows. Snoke is gone, impossible as it is. He doesn’t have to do this. Every muscle is tensed to its limit as he slowly, haltingly, forces the sword down, scant fractions at a time. Rey’s posture relaxes slightly, still wary but hopeful. 

He strains against himself, chest heaving, and then the sword comes to a stop, barely lowered from where it started, still held out, pointing at her. The taste of acid burns at the back of his throat as he struggles. It is so simple, he just has to release - to let go of the tension holding him together. He is burning and he _shoves_ against everything inside of him. 

Something snaps - instead of breaking apart, it shoves back, all the years and the training and the lessons and everything that had been made into him - this can’t be over, Snoke is the foundation he has been built upon. Without him, he is nothing. He has to fight, it can’t be over even if he wants it to be; there is no such thing for him as giving in. 

A strangled roar tears itself from his throat and his sword swings up in a wild arc. He can barely see Rey react, can barely recognize her as anything other than a threat. Her staff is out now, held defensively in front of her, ready for him. He hacks blindly down and she brings the staff up against him, hard, throwing him back. He presses forward again immediately, his strokes loose and sloppy, years of training blunted by everything tearing him apart. She struggles in the close quarters, not able to get the distance she could use to bring him down quickly. He has her backed against the wall, using his height and breadth to loom over her, forcing her down. The end of her staff bounces off the wall while she deflects his blows until she ducks under his swing, slams into his stomach, winding him. She spins away to the side as he curls into himself. 

Straightening quickly, he turns after her, finding her already waiting for him. He strikes out again, mindlessly, and the fight goes on. She is still limited by the enclosed space, but now has more than enough room to keep him at bay. A buzzing echoes through his head, filling the fog that has been growing steadily worse over the past weeks. Every move is nothing more than instinct, knowledge beaten and pounded and torn and formed into him. In the buried part of his mind where he can still think, he knows she will beat him. She has done it before, and he has never been weaker. 

There is a sense of relief to that knowledge, under the anger and loss and confusion. It’s a clear pool, waiting for him to slip in and lose himself beneath the surface. This would be over soon, and he is tired. His form continues to fall apart, leaving more and more of himself open, but she doesn’t take it, won’t just finish this. There is nothing left for him; this could end so easily if she would just let it. She lands hits on him, bruises and shallow cuts, nothing more, and it’s not enough.

His movements are so open a child could get through them, and then finally she does, first with a hard strike to his wrist, then her staff twists around his sword, sweeping it out of his hands. It crashes to the ground and slides across the floor. Before he can react, she reaches further, swinging to hit him in the back of the knees, knocking him forward. He pushes up against the ground, but the pressure against his legs remains, so he stays there, kneeling. She walks around him, slowly, keeping her weapon against him, until she stands in front of him. She is breathing heavily but her face is set, watching him intently. He remains still under her gaze. He is done. He kneels before her, her staff resting against his neck, in front of the bed where the remains of his master lay. Somewhere in the room rests the shell of the bird she created, bedraggled and empty. 

Outside of the room, faint shouts can be heard echoing throughout the palace, along with the heavy tread of soldiers’ boots. Another time, he might have cared. It was over now.

-

Rey looks down on him, panting. The fight hadn’t taken as much out of her as her emotions had. She takes her staff away from his neck, waiting for him to move, then puts it behind her again when he doesn’t. Slowly, she pulls out the length of rope she took with her from her horse. His hands rest by his sides and she reaches down to pull them behind his back. He lets her, and she pauses, with his hands in hers, the rope held against his wrists. She ties it around them slowly, looser than she should. She doesn’t move once she’s done, still holding his hands, tracing over his fingers.

“What now?” she whispers, almost not expecting an answer. Time seems to drag out in the wake of Snoke’s death and their fight. It was simple enough to restrain him; it would be easy to take him to the Resistance. She could try to explain to the general later, or try to find Poe in the midst of the mess of the palace to have him talk to her. 

The silence lingers before he speaks. "You kill me here, or you take me to the rebels to be killed." His voice is hoarse, scratching at his throat. His gaze doesn’t move from the floor.

Her hands clench around his, knowing the truth in his words. There’s little chance Kylo Ren could make it from the palace alive. Too many in the Resistance are too eager for his blood. She knows they have every reason to want it. 

Possessiveness flares in her and she undoes her weak knot in a single motion. She’s not ready to give him over to them yet. She tosses the rope to the side and walks back around him, giving his mask a vicious kick as she passes it. Standing in front of him, she wedges her fingers under the edges of his armor, pulling at it until it gives way. His hands come up to cover hers, stopping her.

His throat bobs and he opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. He swallows and tries again. "What are you doing?"

She tugs on his armor before responding, but his hands remain firm. "Getting you ready," she replies.

His head jerks upward and his stare is terrified and desperate. "I-you can't," he manages. "Just k-"

"No," she says fiercely, pulling at his armor again. His hands slip and it starts to come off. 

"Rey," he pleads, voice breaking.

Her eyes meet his and hold. She glares at him, fierce, determined. The pressure of his hands on hers is warm, even through his gloves, and weaker than it was before. She unconsciously rubs her thumb against the side of his hand and he draws in a sharp breath. His eyes widen and she spreads her hands over his shoulders, holding him. 

“Kylo,” she says, and his eyes close, as if the sound hurts him, worse than the bruises covering his body. “This isn’t over yet,” she promises him softly.

His hands clench, then fall away. 

She pauses, then gently pulls at his armor again. He remains kneeling as she tugs his breastplate off, making no motion to help or hinder her. She removes his arm guards next, then pulls him to his feet to discard the rest of his armor. 

When she’s done, his black tunic and pants are still more conspicuous than she would like, but she doubts that anyone would recognize Kylo Ren in the scarred man before her. The blankness has started to wear off from his expression, and he watches her carefully.

“Why?” he asks. 

She doesn’t answer. She’s not entirely sure herself. Instead, she reaches for his hand. He pauses, then takes it, weaving his fingers into hers. She squeezes it and smiles fiercely up at him, heart burning in her chest. He takes a deep breath and gives a jerky nod. 

The door from the emperor’s room still hangs open, and they leave together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh. This has been such an amazing project. Thank you so much to everyone involved with the [Reylo Fanfiction Anthology](https://reylofanfictionanthology.tumblr.com/), from authors to artists to mods. Thank you also to everyone who has commented, your support means so much. I love hearing what you all think of this story; every comment is incredibly appreciated.   
> You can also catch me on [tumblr](http://thewayofthetrashcompactor.tumblr.com/), where you'll be able to find the anthology ebook, and where we're gearing up for the next project!


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